Just a Tool
by floodmaster16
Summary: Another orphan from the Clone Wars. A harsh society that would never understand nor accept him. An Empire that seems to own everything. An evil entity that can't be fought against. All of them have a use for him, just a means to an end. Will the Ghost crew bother and care, or follow the trend? Would it matter, anyway? Everyone dies.
1. Prologue

_It's amazing, how things sometimes turn out._

 _People say you don't get to choose your parents, and boy if that's not true. They often forget to say how unlucky some of us get to be._

 _I don't remember my parents, why would I? For as long as anyone has known about me, I've been away from the woman that gave me birth, and that goes double for the other half. Rumors had it they had just been visiting Mandalore when the Clone Wars finally claimed Duchess Satine's life, the first of many Mandalorians to sink into that howling darkness, never to come back. They had been lucky, or so they say, and managed to ride off the worst of the fighting. Then mother had gone into labor, and that was what many would count as one of my many failures as a human being. They couldn't get out, when the Republic turned desperate it suddenly ceased to worry about collateral damage. The buildings that had been designated as shelters had been under constant assault, and the Generals, in their infinite dumbassery, had decided that a few dead civilians were 'acceptable losses'. I nearly became one of those 'acceptable losses', the clones that dug me out where dumbfounded at the 5-day-old baby who had survived tons of durasteel, beskar, and concrete coming down on him. They had chalked it up to 'Mandalorian thoughness' and, after cleaning me up and making sure I wasn't going to die in the next couple of days, they turned me over to whatever authority was left on the planet._

 _Then the Republic turned into the Empire. The fighting was over practically by the next day, and Mandalore accepted the new rule if it meant a stop to the bloodshed. In the confusion, no one bothered to find out if one of the many orphans the war had caused belonged where he was. In retrospective, perhaps they knew I didn't._

 _Vriom and Zathe Hynehl wanted to pretend they could overlook such a fact. Vriom was a blacksmith of sorts, schooled in the ancient art of beskar forging, and Zathe tried to cultivate the image of a housewive, all the while being a instructor on the ancient arts of Mandalorian hand-to-hand combat. The couple took me in, and I really can't complain about them not trying, because I can remember a time where they would seem to genuinely love this strange kid. They raised him on the old Mandalorian ways -secretly, of course, the Empire wouldn't be thrilled about possible insurgency brewing within its borders (Mandalorian recruitment demanded unconditional allegiance to the Empire, in clear defiance of the Mandalorian way, but that was a mere nuisance)-, ingrained on him the story of his adopted lineage, and taught him everything they thought he needed to know. They had to, he wasn't learning anything at school, and not for a lack of trying, but because everyone seemed to have a bone to pick with him._

" _Who do you think you are, showing your impure face in this place?!" was an accusation I got every first day of class anywhere I went. Despite not having any friends to speak of, and barely speaking to anyone that was not V or Z, the local bullies seemed to know me no matter what, and made sure to not only make their distaste of me clear, but also to spread it and turn every kid in the building against me. So, I would ignore the insults, and return the punches. I became quite good at it, while V and Z steadily became disappointed in their adopted child._

 _In 6 years of forced school attendance, I made two friends only. The first one I met after a particularly nasty session of 'you are not the boss of me', which ended up with me breaking the noses of three attackers at the expense of a nasty gash across my forehead. After going to the infirmary for a bacta treatment to stop the bleeding, I was sent to the Principal's office, still somewhat bloodied, and made to sit outside while waiting for her to come in and give me the same speech she always did about 'not escalating situations' and 'learning to cope with outside hatred', as if I was able to understand that back then. Sitting in silence and thinking about what kind of an earful I would get from Zathe for the latest beat up I had handed over -and received-, I had barely processed the idea that there was someone else talking to me. And for once, it was a person my age, not to insult or demean me, but rather actually looking concerned._

" _Are you alright?" I finally understood, from a girl slightly smaller in height than me, who was looking pretty interested in helping me clean off the blood I still had in some places. Under my confused look, she took a napkin from a nearby caf station and dampened it with fresh water from the tap._

" _It's ok, I've got it, thanks" I said as lightly as I could, taking the napkin before she rubbed off the blood herself. Maybe she was only being nice?_

" _You don't look very well, uhm…" she casually added, sitting beside me and marking the spots I could not possibly see without a mirror._

" _Dax. My uhm… name is Dax Hynehl" I had hesitated to say despite her leaving the door open for an answer._

" _Nice to meet you. I'm Maya Fyyak" she said, smiling to me in a friendly way that only my parents did._

" _Nice to meet you too. Thanks for the help"_

" _What happened to you?"_

" _I, uh, I had a fight…"_

" _Ah, so it was you who broke those bullies' noses, right?" she asked, obviously in on the local gossip._

" _It was self-defense…" I went quickly into defense mode, used to having to try and explain myself -not that it ever mattered-._

" _I know. They are… not nice people. I've seen them pushing you around and messing with you. I always wonder why" she mused, finally able to take the napkin off my hands and doing a better work of cleaning the blood off than I was. 'Awkward' and 'uncomfortable' are, to this date, very light words to describe what I was feeling then, and 'alien' is definitely the word for the feeling I was getting out of the whole situation. Back then I chalked it up to the blood loss._

" _They just… don't like me. Nobody does, anyways" I glumly answered, doing my best to stay still and let her finish already._

" _Is there any reason for that? People don't dislike you just because" she tried to rationalize, looking doubtfully at me._

" _I don't mess with people, I don't speak to them, I don't even look at them. Yet there's not a single day I don't get beaten, insulted, mocked, teased, or otherwise targeted. By now, I don't even think my parents like me either" then I curled into myself and looked away. No one had ever seen me cry, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me hurt, but when reality had finally sunk in, I just couldn't hold it in much longer. I had tried to keep it silent, but she was right by my side in that moment and she could hear the one sob that I had ever made in public._

" _Don't say that, your parents will always love you. I'm sorry you are having a bad time with others, I believe you when you say it's not your fault, you don't look like the type. If it's ok to you, maybe I could be your friend?" she asked hopefully, offering a smile that's a painful memory when I think back on it._

" _Why would you want that?" I asked cautiously, hoping not to offend her._

" _Everyone needs friends. You could use one, and you seem like an interesting person to meet. You don't have to be alone" by now she had put a hand on my shoulder, and I have to admit non-violent contact from someone that wasn't family was a welcome change._

" _Ok" was all I could answer, making her smile go wider. In that moment, someone called her name and she had to go._

" _Yikes, I have to go. Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully, standing from her sitting position, for which she got a nod as an answer from me, "Great. Do me a favor and chin up, alright?"_

" _I'll try. Thank you"_

 _The rest of the day felt like I was in auto-pilot. I don't remember if I was in the principal's office that day, and back home I didn't get much of a punishment, so I went to bed and mulled everything over before losing consciousness to sleep._

* * *

 _She made good on her word, though, and that was a first for me. My usual lonely lunch time was instead spent answering a barrage of questions she had about my miserable life, while she only allowed me to make a handful to her. For 30 minutes of that day, I was genuinely happy, for a change. And that was the start of it._

 _While she was with her own friends I wouldn't bother, the last thing I wanted is to turn her into an outcast by association. Any time someone wanted to talk to her, I would leave, despite her insisting that I didn't have to do such a thing, that it was demeaning and she felt hurt. I couldn't make her see sense, so instead I risked hurting her every time I did so. My second friend came in from her, of course. Her brother Gak wasn't a fan of her friends, but decided to tag along with a fellow outcast to see if he could connect better. And we did. He was the closest I had to a brother, and I will never regret meeting him. Sadly, things were about to go worse, because Force knows that being happy wasn't something I was entitled to._

 _I met the Fyyak siblings (and their parents, who at the time seemed nice people, in the sense they didn't take a dislike to me) when I was 12-years-old, and then time seemed to fly. We grew up quickly, Mandalorian kids famous already for being mature beyond their years, and of course she grew up to be a physically attractive young girl. Gak and I also grew up, though not even that put a dent on my "most hated boy in the city" reputation. While Gak grew out of his outcast phase, I had no choice, and we found ourselves sharing less and less time together. No hard feelings, we still felt a strong 'bro' connection. Maya, on the other hand, became popular, despite everyone knowing she was the only female friend of the planet's biggest loser, and of course she had the big boys' attention. She fell for a guy who couldn't hate me any more even if they tried._

 _The bastard was from a rich, powerful, and influential family, traders with connections to the nastiest people in the Empire. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't want to think that Maya, of all people, would be the one to do so._

 _People say they remember important events in their life. Their first academic achievement, their first kiss, their wedding day… I wouldn't know any of those._

 _I do remember the day that the Mandalorian police and Imperial Security came for me. My parents tried to stall, but they just pushed past them, plowed me to the floor, and slapped the cuffs in me. 14-years-old and I was being dragged against my will by men at least twice my size. 24 hours of rotting in a prison cell later, they finally told me why I was there. Sexual assault. Are you kidding me? To whom? I didn't know a single woman my age that I could be remotely tied to such a heinous crime, it was ridiculous. Except for one. That was Maya's handwriting and signature on the report, alright. The other one, I assumed, was from her significant other. She had made a choice, and she chose him over me. Vriom and Zathe were just as shocked, and they spent a whole day trying to get me to confess, even though I insisted that I hadn't, that I had been at home and they could attest to that. They were having none of it._

 _They mutually decided that the boy they had raised since he was nothing but a baby, that they had nurtured and raised into family values, and that endured the worst that Mandalore's society could throw at him, was lying, and that he was a disgrace to their family lineage. That was the last time I saw them, and the last day 'Hynehl' was my legal surname. The Empire had seen to that, seizing the opportunity to be the good guys in the eyes of the people. By the third day it was only Gak visiting me, behind his family's back. He had tried to talk sense into Maya, drop the charge against me and confess to the lie, but she wouldn't bulge. I still don't understand how you can lie about something so serious, and point the finger at someone to whom you had claimed to be a good friend of._

" _Gak" I called to him a week after being detained, "I need a favor from you"._

" _Yeah, of course" he was sitting across from me, outside the force field._

" _Don't come back tomorrow"_

" _What?! Are you serious?! Don't joke with this kind of thing, Dax!" he was personally insulted by what I had asked, but he didn't get it, so I had to explain._

" _The guards have been talking, they have been telling people that you are still coming to visit. When your parents find out… when everyone else finds out… I can't do that to you. Please? For me?"_

 _I could tell he was stunned. His closest friend was asking him to go away, and never come back. He felt like he was failing me, but in all honesty, he had gone above and beyond. He would have to stay long after I was gone. I had made myself no illusions about getting out of this one._

 _He simply nodded and looked away, then to me, so I could see the tears in his eyes. He left without saying anything else, and then I was truly alone. My 15_ _th_ _birthday was due for 20 days later, and I had already lost my life as I knew it. I was truly alone now, and I was only able to sit in my empty cell with my back turned against the entryway. When they came for me again, to stick me in an Imperial shuttle and off the planet, I didn't even flinch. I just hoped that they would end it quickly._

 _No such luck._

 _By the time I felt solid ground again, I had been kicked off the shuttle's ramp and left for dead, in a barren wasteland which I did not recognize by any stretch of the imagination, and with no water or nourishment to speak of. Yes, I should have died then and there, under the blistering sun of Geonosis, but the Force has a wicked sense of humor. After a few hours of wandering around aimlessly, I remember dropping to my knees and giving up, surrendering to a fate that seemed certain, only to come to again lying on a cot that seemed unusually comfortable._

* * *

" _Don't try to stand up, you're too weak to do anything, it's amazing you are still breathing" a deep voice commanded me, and I instinctively tried to recoil away from it. He wasn't wrong, all the muscles in my body felt like jelly at the time, so I barely moved._

" _Drink", as he poured the best sip of water I had in my life until then on my mouth. After a few minutes, I was capable to do so on my own, and could now see the abrasions in my wrists where my hands had been tied for days. I also got a good look at my 'savior'. I had never seen a Duro up close, only in holostills, and it was a thoroughly… weird, experience. I figured them for pilots, rarely for bounty hunters._

" _This is you, isn't it?" he inquired with interest, turning the holographic bulletin with my face on it so I could see it. I groaned and tried to look anywhere else. Even in a barren wasteland like that I couldn't escape that bullshit, "did you do it, what they say you did?"_

" _No!"_

 _He sized me for a moment, then huffed smugly, "alright then"_

 _It took a bounty hunter full 5 seconds to believe what days of swearing on the Mandalorian code would not convince my former parents. Yes, the galaxy is kriffed up like that._

" _Who are you?" with coarse voice, having lived off the minimum of food and fluids a human can possibly survive from._

" _Introductions? You think you'll stick around?" he was having fun, the smug bastard, but I wasn't about to be outdone by blue-skinned fierfek._

" _If that wasn't the case, why bother saving my sorry ass?" he laughed at my jab and finally conceded._

" _I'm Jer Karloks, and I suppose you'd be Dax Hynehl…"_

" _Just Dax. Legally, I have no family name"_

" _Wow, they really did their best to get rid of you, didn't they?"_

 _Short of killing me, yes, they'd done the next best thing: erase me from existence and deny me any kind of legacy. Just killing me would have left the door open for someone to question the validity of what they did. Erasing me from public memory had effectively granted them absolute victory._

" _Yes. I don't think they ever liked me, anyway" I half-joked then, and still do._

" _Spare me the sob story. What should I do with you? I'm guessing the Empire would pay handsomely for the prisoner they've failed to indirectly kill"_

" _Probably, but..." and I really think I had no choice at the moment, "will you pass up the opportunity to have a Mandalorian employee on your outfit? My guess is, seeing the state of this place, you either just got scammed out of your payday by your last partners, or you are not very good at your job. My money is on the former." It came so natural, talking to a member of the galaxy's underworld. Maybe that had been my intended destiny from the very beginning._

" _You have a big mouth, kid" then stopped to mull my proposal over, "rest up for now, because you have a lot to prove once you recover. And if I'm not satisfied, I'll turn your guts into profit on the black market. For the time being, I. Own. You."_

" _Yes, boss…"_

 _He wasn't joking, a week later he was testing me to see if I had something to offer that was of value to the trade. Hand-to-hand combat, blade handling, marksmanship, slicing… anything Jer could think of, he would evaluate._

" _Not bad, I would say 'slightly above average' describes your abilities pretty well. But don't get cocky, kid, you know the theory, real-life is a lot tougher than hitting static fake targets."_

" _Whatever you say, old timer. Do we even have a contract, yet? It's kind of annoying to live off ration bars"_

" _All in due time, kid, all in due time"_

 _The thrill of the future job kept my mind off what had happened before, but every night when I laid on my cot I would think back, and what at first was sadness and resignation soon turned into anger. Maya had promised to be my friend, to be someone I could trust when others would try to physically and mentally break me, but in the end, she had become one of them, and she had succeeded where they had failed. She broke me mentally and nearly got me killed. Whenever my mind conjured her image, I would push back and do my best to forget it._

* * *

 _Jer hadn't lied about the job, soon we were neck-deep into some of the hottest contracts a bounty hunter could ask. He had a decent reputation from before, but as partners we became fearsome and infamous. I had channeled my anger, frustration, and hate into my new job, and created an identity I was comfortable with. Jer became the herald of doom, and I was the Grim Reaper. Running into him meant you would soon be looking at the wrong end of two blasters, and the killing soon dulled my perceptions and emotions. Some targets found out that I was supposed to be dead, and spread that little factoid around, only adding up to our reputation, but even then, we managed to keep surprisingly low-key when considering what people talked about._

 _The Empire wasn't too happy, though, and soon our job got harder and harder, and had other bounty hunters gunning for our heads too. That's when I lost Jer._

 _We had been hired to protect shippings from Imperial attacks, the farmers from a little dirt ball called Saleucami had banded up and decided to stop losing their profits to the powers that be, so they paid us to make sure the product got from point A to point B. We had felt charitable enough, and figure our sole presence would serve as detriment to the cowards in black. We didn't account for the Inquisitors._

 _We didn't know back then, of course, the only clue was the unique-looking TIE fighter that attacked us, Jer doing his best to line up a shot for me._

" _Blow that bastard into pieces, kid! We are losing our shields!" he had yelled all the way from the cockpit. I had tried, and almost made it. I could have saved him. I should have._

 _The guy was good, he had used his escort as cover when I shot at him, sacrificing their lives for his own, trading ten idiots for the certainty of shooting us down. I remember snippets of fire, cracking glass, spinning out of control… then waking up three meters away from the crash site. I had somehow survived the impossible, again, but had ended up on my own, with no currency, and in a planet I didn't know much about._

 _I buried him near the wreckage, the bastard always did want to be buried with all he owned. He even took what I owned myself. You must be very happy, smug bastard._

* * *

 _So, again, I wandered, this time not very far, and I broke into one of the many abandoned houses. No food, barely any running water, but I had three metal bolts lodged in my left arm, a superficial cut across my right cheek, and I'm positive that at least one of my ribs was only still in its place because I was holding it in all the way there. The dirty linens made some crude bandages, and thankfully my medkit survived the crash mostly intact. Never say no to bacta._

 _Three days later, I was up again, albeit with a not-so good ribcage, so I had to take it easy. Small-time jobs paid for the food and the bacta treatment for another five days until I was fully operational again. Jer's death put a dent to everything, from my reputation to my confidence in my skills, and it became apparent that I would stay in Saleucami for a long time coming._

" _What's that", I had asked Torg, a local scrap merchant, when I went to him to sell some scrap from the crash site._

" _A piece of junk, it's what it is, I don't know why do I even have it still"_

" _You sure? Mind if I take a look at it?" I pulled the cylinder out of the scrap mountain he had it in._

" _Agh, take it, as a gift. You want to end this deal or what?"_

" _Sure, how much do you offer, again?" I continued, not looking up from the object I was holding_

" _Two thousand credits! No more!" Greedy bastard, but I needed the credits._

" _Deal" that was a day of discoveries, apparently, because I found something else that I hoped I wouldn't, "how much for that?" I pointed to a lone set of Mandalorian armor tossed against a corner._

" _I got it pretty cheap, say… three hundred is good?"_

" _Sure, take them from my payday"_

" _You know how to negotiate, kiddo!"_

 _I did, actually. The armor had been sold to him for cheap for one reason: it was the one the Hynehls and I had forged years ago, following the Mandalorian ways. It was adaptive, a requirement for young warriors, who were bound to keep growing up physically long after their coming of age ceremony, so it would fit, no question about it. This one had obviously been sold for peanuts because of what it represented: the Hynehls had done their best to scrape my footprint from their lineage, so now they had to get rid of every evidence that contradicted such idea. An anger I hadn't felt for ages came upon me, forcing me to take the money, the items, and run towards my makeshift shelter. Once inside and having made sure the entrance was secure, I slid into my hidey hole and took a good look at everything. The Acklay teeth emblazoned in the helmet smiled at me in a wicked way, fueling my feelings of hate, my thirst for revenge. But Saleucami had a way of soothing the afflicted hearts and minds, so instead of being consumed by anger, I looked back at the helmet and smiled back towards this icon of death._

"I know you. And you don't scare me."

* * *

 _I was right about the other item. The green blade sprang into action as soon as I hit the activation button._

" _Nice" was all I could say, before I was twirling the weapon around, testing its balance, trying to get used to it. Basic blade handling made it easy to hold and operate, but fighting with it would require expertise I didn't have, or practice I had to make time for. Well, I was in no hurry back then, so for another two days I adjusted the armor to my current build, and used all my limited knowledge to come up with a fighting style that, theoretically, would allow me to use the saber's advantages in battle. It was weightless, it could deflect blaster fire, and it melted through nearly every material in mainstream usage. It was also incredibly easy to lose the grip on the handle, for which I would have to modify it to use it safely, and the plasma blade would mess up anyone who wasn't carefully operating it. I had nearly taken a limb off a couple of times by sloppily swinging it around, after which I realized I had to be more disciplined when practicing. Still, I was very pleased with my findings, but I wouldn't put it before any blaster for my personal rotation at the moment._

 _I spent one hundred and eighty full days in Saleucami, before earning enough credits to buy a fairly maintained cargo freighter, all for myself. Before leaving, I paid Jer one last visit, out of respect for the greedy bounty hunter that had helped me get back on my feet when everyone else was too busy trying to step over me. It would have been pathetic to him, to see me shed a few tears because I was… I am still, convinced that it was my fault he was now six feet under. I left with a heavy heart in my chest and the conviction to make the Empire pay in any way I could. I didn't figure it would define what I would be doing for most of my youth. Maybe because I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have.  
_

* * *

 ** _So...hi? Yeah, I'm new around this fandom, in the sense that I haven't yet published a story here. I've been reading a lot of stories here though, and a lot of them are pretty impressive. Just adding my little speck of dust in here. I will be frank, though, I may take long between updates, I still have other fandoms to tend to and not as much time as I wished, but I hope this is not a deal breaker for you.  
_**

 ** _By the way, the first few chapters will be very OC-centric, so bear with me, please._**


	2. Fake Bravado

_**Fake bravado**_

"You know you shouldn't be here" a gruff Rodian sneered, looking at the 15-year-old clad in armor and with his helmet tucked bellow his right arm.

"I've been here before" Dax casually answered, moving to go inside. The bouncer was about to stop him until the kid simply grabbed the alien's hand and applied a not-so-light thumb lock on him. The Rodian couldn't do anything but follow the direction in which his thumb was threatening to snap and do his best to avoid screaming out in pain. He failed miserably at the last one.

"Ahhhh! Ok, ok! You win. Let go, let go!" he practically begged, a light feeling of pride crossing Dax's features as he took mercy on his victim and let him go, then proceeding inside as originally planned.

The cantina was a dump, as usual. Catering to the unsavory beings of the galaxy meant a lot of bloodshed was usually involved with alcohol, and _'The Purrgil King'_ was no stranger to many a fights and murders alike. For those reasons, few cantinas bothered with cleaning and sprucing up the place. Dax doubted that the glassware was very sanitary, either.

"Karloks better be right behind you, kid, because otherwise you are not welcome here" Great, now the bartender was acting cute too.

"Jer is dead, and if you don't stop acting like a jerk you will be too. I'm here to see someone, a Theelin that said something about a score. Is he here?"

The bartender grumbled in annoyance and pointed to a lone figure in a stall, hoping that this belligerent kid would be done with his business and not show his face around for a while. Word had been running around that the Empire was looking for him, and nobody really wanted to have that kind of problem in his own business.

"Arrived not ten minutes ago, go on with your business and leave, you are no longer welcome in here"

"Then I guess you are not interested in making business after all, are you?" he sarcastically remarked, taking distance from the unusually bellicose bartender and instead deciding that he would indeed take his business elsewhere. Along with his clients.

"You are a very difficult person to find" he heard as he approached the stall and parked his persona in one of the seats available.

"I was on a break, sorry about that. How may I be of your service?"

"First things first, how do you feel about the Empire?" Ah, a trick question. He had to tip toe around it, be careful with what he said.

"They have their thing, I have mine. That's about it" Dax answered, shrugging off any semblance of either support or rejection. The world of neutrality could be so beautiful at times.

"Then I suppose you won't have a problem with stealing from them, would you?" the Theelin asked, again gauging his response to determine if the money he was going to pay this guy would buy them some loyalty.

"I guess it depends on what is it we are stealing. Impress me" he challenged, knowing that the client was about to spring a good one on him. He liked that, when people thought they were being unique. Made it easier to get more credits out of them.

"How do E-11 blasters _and_ thermal detonators grab you? 15 crates total. A proper big score" the alien couldn't hide the grin that began to form in his face, so he let it spread and ended up infecting the bounty hunter too. _Oh, you are so pleased with yourself, aren't you? Okay, I'll bite, sounds like a good deal._

"How many of us and how much do I get?" Dax wasn't overly greedy, but currency was just a strong an addiction as death sticks, so he had gotten used to worry about getting paid first. In the end, he was becoming a little more like Jer with every job.

"There's five of us, two friends of mine, you, and another freelancer"

"Whoa, hold on right there, my friend, who's the other freelancer? Because I don't work with amateurs. I'm not a babysitter"

"Oh, don't worry about that. In fact, I think you'll like her, she's right up your alley"

 _Oh, kriffing bastard, you didn't!_

"You didn't call The Artist, did you?!" He was not going to work with that multi-colored head case, not for a million credits, it was out of the question.

"Why, are you _afraid_ of her?" the client teased, knowing that appealing to the Mandalorian side of his prospective partner in crime would seal the deal. Dax wasn't into the whole 'women are weaker than men' spiel, he knew it first hand to be a load of bantha crap in a lot of cases, but this specific woman had a reputation for doing thigs in unnecessarily complicated ways, just for shits and grins, and that was not the way he liked to do things. ' _Keep it simple, stupid'_ had been the way Jer taught him to do things, and that's how he liked his jobs: smooth going and without unnecessary damage.

"I'm not, my problem stems from a difference in work ethics, that chick is incredibly crazy. If your job goes belly up I won't be there to save your asses, but I will be there to say 'I told you so'."

"I'll worry about that if it comes to it. And to make sure it won't all go up in flames, both _you_ and _her_ will do the scouting job _and_ the planning aspect of all this show, we'll only be the muscle. So, if it goes 'belly up' as you say, it will be your fault" the Theelin crossed his arms in front of his chest and flashed a smug grin.

 _Oh, that's fantastic. Stuck with a lunatic for a couple of days, trying desperately to tame her desire to blow everything and everyone sky-high. My price just went up, buddy._

"Equal share of the profits, or you go and look for someone else to ride point on this"

"Your standard fee plus half a million, no more"

"Good bye, then" The best way to show how willing you are to walk away? Just do so. If the Theelin wanted Dax as a partner, he would pay him what he wanted, not a credit less.

"Wait!" Just in time, because Dax was _really_ going to walk away on him, "fine, an equal cut of the profits. And you complain about her…" the last comment was made underhanded and in such a low tone that Dax only heard it by passing so close to the client on the way back to his seat, "She'll be meeting you in a few hours near the docks, the shipment is bound to arrive in two days. I was made aware that two days was more than enough time for you. Am I right?"

"Depends on what princess Colors comes up with"

"Be nice, maybe you'll learn something from her"

"We'll see about that…"

* * *

 _6:30. Where the hell is that nerf-herding woman?_

As if on cue, one of the spike sensors he had set up around the rundown apartment complex detected movement, someone making their way towards his own position at a leisure pace.

 _Could be her, could be a trap. Setting my own little ambush wouldn't hurt…_

Donning his helmet on and prying himself away from his current lookout position, he used one of the holes in the wall to conceal himself, and at the same time he pulled his WESTAR 35 out of the rigid holster strapped to his thigh, aiming it at where he calculated a torso-shot would land in an average-height human. The sound of footsteps grew louder by the second, until a feminine-looking form parked herself right at the threshold of the room.

 _Well, it's her alright. What's the bounty on her head, again?_

"About 1,000 credits, if you are wondering," the sweet-yet-menacing voice tersely commented, looking around as if looking for something. 1,000 credits would be tempting for anyone else, but Dax was fine with just the payment for the job at hand. He emerged from his hiding spot still aiming his blaster straight at her. She turned her attention towards the green drab armor that seemed to materialize straight out of nowhere, a blaster not dissimilar to hers accurately aimed at her chest piece. She'd had many weapons aimed at her before, but this one was an interesting one. Instead of being plainly white or light gray, as usual, it was covered in a custom paintjob that consisted of a base of dark gunmetal, contrasted by an odd camouflage of varying tones of blacks, whites, and a couple of specs of gray. The odd part of the camouflage was that the specs where made out of a honeycomb pattern, giving the blaster a nice angular appearance. Even as someone who valued more color and organic shapes, she had to admit it was an interesting and eye-catching instrument.

"So… will you collect, or are we doing this job?" she asked without an ounce of fear in her tone. Five full seconds ticked by before he finally holstered the blaster back in its place, his new partner exhaling a breath she didn't realize was holding.

"Why were you so sure I wouldn't shoot you as soon as you crossed that door?", his helmet distorted his speaking only slightly, but The Artist could make out by his tone and pitch he was a male, only a couple of years older than her, at most. His shooting stance while holding her at gun point told her that he favored control and accuracy over volume of fire and mobility speed, and his drab armor with only the Acklay Grin as distinctive indicated he wasn't fond of being on the Empire's eyes.

"I've read and heard about you. You're overly cautious to the point of being annoying, and greed is not your thing. Plus, how would you collect the bounty? You are not on the Empire's good side, and you don't exactly like them either. You didn't think about that one, did you?" he could practically _hear_ her grin in the tone of her reply, watching as she set what he only now recognized as two mugs of caf and a paper bag in the only table in the room.

"No, I guess I didn't. And funny thing you talk about reputations, yours is not very nice either, Ms…"

"Wren. Sabine Wren" she casually answered, pulling her helmet over her head and revealing… a quite attractive woman, if Dax had to say so. Her short hair was painted in orange and blue, and her chocolate eyes seemed to be perpetually inquisitive.

"Huh, interesting…" he muttered, barely audible, as the girl arched an eyebrow and sat on an empty crate, intensely focused on what he would do next, but clearly not patient enough to wait for him.

"See anything you like, Mr…"

He cocked his head to the side, as if sizing her up, then pulling his own helmet off and giving the same courtesy she gave him, "Dax, my name is Dax"

"Mandalorian?"

"So they tell me"

"House? Clan?"

"Don't have them, I was disowned"

"Wow, you must have kriffed up really bad for that to happen." The smirk on her face was to hide the fact that she found him… physically interesting. Not incredibly handsome, no, but he was appealing to the eye, and the coolness of those steely-gray eyes contrasted with his permanent scowl, and that scar that ran from his chin into his neck just begged for her to ask about its origin. Yeah, not overly handsome, but any girl could get used to be by his side.

 _You're here to work, Wren, not for personal matters._

"You don't know half of it" he sighed and headed back to his previous surveillance spot, right beside her. The spotting scope was his, so he had privileges, but Wren didn't seem to have a problem with it, since he silently offered a second set of optics by setting them on her side of the table.

He didn't say it, but she knew: her set were better than his.

 _Are you flirting with me, 'Dax'? Or do you offer the best optics in the first date to all the girls you meet?_

The quip was never said out loud, but when she thought he couldn't see she smirked when thinking about it.

 _Please, he looks like the kind of guy who's better off alone._

* * *

"So…"

"You are awfully chatty, for your reputation" he lightly commented, not prying his eye away from the scope.

"Says the guy who's famous for killing anyone that looks at him in a way he doesn't like" she wasn't a damsel in distress, she could be as snippy as she wanted right back at him.

"Fine, what is it?"

"What's the story on you? Nobody was able to tell me many details other than your job. A couple of guys heard rumors and all that but it's like I told you: rumors are not facts" she was coming across as familiar, and that ticked him just a little bit. He wasn't looking for a friend. His friends tended to wind up dead, and while he didn't much care about her (she could literally walk off on him on the job, never to be seen again, and he wouldn't be bothered by that fact), putting people in unnecessary risk was a professional no-no as far as he was concerned.

"Tell me what the rumors said, I'll tell you what's fact and what's fiction. How does that sound?"

"Like it's the best I'm going to get out of you"

* * *

"Aren't you tired? It's 12 p.m., and I don't know about you, but I've been up all day" Sabine commented while stretching her limbs and barely suppressing a yawn.

"Caf works just fine, and no offense, but I have no plans of dozing off anywhere near you" he mentally winced at the fact that such a remark sounded _way_ more aggressive than he had imagined it would. If she was offended by it, though, she didn't show it, simply shaking her head sideways and pursing her lips tight to mock at him.

"Suit yourself, I'm taking a nap. Wake me up when things get more exciting" Wren simply responded, settling on the floor and cuddling into herself. After a few minutes her breathing became steady, the only other sound in the room. With a satisfied sigh, Dax returned his full attention to the job at hand.

 _Wren._ He remembered that last name, back in Sundari. Prominent among the Imperial ranks, some of them even held positions at the infamous Imperial Academy of Mandalore. Not hearing about the Wren name meant that you either were not into the local scene, or you were on the Empire's good graces. So why, for Force's sake, was a member of the Imperial Elite working as a bounty hunter, against the Empire, no less? Something just quite didn't add up to him.

And then there was the fake snippiness. She could joke and tease, alright, but she was overdoing it at times, like it was just a front for something. If it was a personal matter, it wasn't his business, and he didn't care. If it was a professional matter, it was potentially dangerous and could end with him hanging upside down with his guts out.

For now, though, he would let her sleep. Tomorrow was a brand-new day, and he would get answers from her no matter what.

* * *

Sabine stirred while slowly opening her eyes, squinting slightly at the few rays of sunlight that filtered through the gaps in the otherwise boarded window.

"Sleep well?" the question was more of a courtesy than real concern over her, but being polite back at him wouldn't necessarily kill her.

"Not really, it's been sometime since I've had to sleep on the floor. Don't tell me you really stayed up all night!"

"Yup. I told you I wasn't going to sleep with you in the room"

"Aww, do I make you nervous?" Sabine teased, a sly grin spreading across her lips.

"Not in a good way, if that's what you mean"

* * *

"What's the deal with _you_?" Dax found the courage to ask, after thinking for about five minutes for a way to not sound condescending or to show any personal interest in private affairs.

"What do you mean?"

"I know your family name. If I wanted a meeting with the Imperial Governor at Sundari you'd have been sent to break my legs. And I'm supposed to buy the fact that someone with your family name is here to help me stick it to the Empire?" the hint of a threat had begun to laze his voice, while she had stiffened behind the set of optics and diverted her gaze towards the table they were leaning on. Fully aware of the inquisitive glare she was receiving, she swiveled the chair to face him, her face the vivid image of rage.

"Don't go there. I owe you no explanation…"

"The hell you don't! For all I know you could be an Imperial double agent! So, I ask you again. What's. The deal. With you."

 _Who the kriff do you think you are, you little…_

Without thinking much, Sabine reached for a concealable short vibroblade sheathed in her belt, aiming a stab at his neck. Dax sprung back just in time to avoid the sharpened edge, blocking another blow with the metallic braces of his armor and using his open palm to strike at her left cheek. The blow made Sabine yelp and recoil, momentarily stunned, and her opponent used the opening to kick at the hand that held the blade, sending it flying across the room. With the cry of a Banshee, Wren charged forward, slamming her shoulder dead center in his chest piece. As he fell, she moved with cunning and speed, using her right shin to pin him to the ground and sucker punch him with all the strength she could muster. Without losing time, Dax used his right fist to deliver a hit right against her lower jaw, sending her backwards while clutching at her injury. Before she could recover, or even just begin to ignore the pain, a kick to the torso jolted her upright against the wall, and suddenly an increase of temperature accompanied the smell of ozone. But it wasn't the room's temperature that changed, it was the heat radiated by the green plasma blade that was just a couple of inches away from singing her throat. She hadn't seen one of these weapons used in a fight, and now she faced the prospect of her first time doing so being the last one.

"I-I thought Jedi didn't kill innocents…" her remaining bravery dripped out with that last sentence, as she felt the heat come just a little closer to her skin.

"You are no innocent, Imperial garbage, and I am no Jedi" he allowed, just so she wouldn't die with a feeling of accomplishment at compromising other people's beliefs.

"I'm not with the Empire! I… I hate the Empire!" more for herself than for him. If he wanted to kill her, then so be it, she wouldn't beg.

"Convince me"

"They… they took my family from me! They turned them against me! They gave my brother, my father, and my mother a choice, and they chose the Empire over me! Happy now?!" she nearly shouted, gritting her teeth, and waiting for the mortal strike, "you wouldn't understand about that…"

Part of him wanted to say that it was all a lie, that she was trying to play with him, to feel pity for her. But the look in her eyes told a different story. The fake bravado was gone, as was the playfulness and mischievousness from before. This was her being real.

"I do. More than you imagine", as he shut down the saber and watched her breathe a sigh of relief, sinking against the wall, "I'm sorry for that" as if that would fix anything. He purposefully avoided her eyes, looking away for a moment and then returning to his spotting position. Eventually Sabine would calm down and return to her own chores, both of them remaining silent and adding up to the awkwardness.

* * *

"You said you understood. W-what did you mean by that?"

It had been hours since he nearly killed her, and now he sensed she was just trying to get back at him. Since he owed her from that, he now had to be truthful in return. Except that…. He didn't know how to do that.

"I… uhm... it's… Haar'chak…. "

"Never mind. You don't have to tell me…"

"It's not that. I just... don't talk about it much, so I don't know how to put it in words…" there's an understatement, if he ever saw one in his short life. She must have heard about it, so maybe… "Back in Sundari… it feels like a long time ago… I used to belong to Clan Hynehl…"

 _Hynehl…. No. Kriffing. Way!_

"What?! _You_ are… Dax Hynehl?" mind-blown didn't even begin to cover how she felt after this revelation, "do you have any idea…."

"No, and I don't want to have it"

"But…"

"Wren! Drop it! Please…"

Sabine turned to him, ready to _slap_ some sense into him if needed be, but she found him with his gaze fixed stubbornly on his optics, his jaw was so tense she could swear he would crack his teeth, and his right hand gripped the optics' tripod so hard that anytime now it could simply snap.

"I get it, sorry for insisting"

 _They left him to die for something that he didn't do. No amount of atoning would ever pay back for that._

At times like these, she was even more glad for having run away. Stories like his where the bread and butter for people who ended up in the Empire's crosshairs, whether they deserved it or not. She was 100% positive he hadn't deserved it then, and maybe he didn't deserve it now. Even if he had tried to kill her.

"Dax" Sabine called for his attention, seeing still the lingering traces of emotion in his eyes, "Mandokarla. Ori'haat"

For a couple of seconds, it seemed like it had no effect on him, until he chuckled and returned to his job.

"Sa vaabir gar, Wren. Sa vaabir gar"

"Ni kar'taylir, Ni'm te jatne"

"Elek, gar cuyir" sarcastically, for which he got a slap in the shoulder in return.

"Don't be shitty, Mr."

* * *

 **So, yeah, you might need a Mando-to-English translator from time to time, trust me. I wanted Dax to meet Sabine before she was in the Ghost crew, give them some profesional and somewhat-personal background before going forward. And drop a few clues here and there, too. You can make your own theories about where this will all go, I might even like some of them enough to feature in this.**

 **Do you like the banter between two warriors from similar backgrounds? Is there something you didn't quite like? Leave a Review for me, please. Constructive criticism helps shape up the stories we write. See ya when I see ya.**


	3. Tunnel rats

"This job is a nightmare, we can forget about hitting the shipment in the docks. A single whiff of trouble there and the whole garrison will come down crashing on us. I mean, I'm good, but not good enough to handle so many bucket-heads" Sabine commented, giving up on continuing to scout the area. Dax had reached that conclusion himself almost at the same time.

The dock was fitted with more sensors and guards than any commercial dock could even imagine. Owing to the fact that it was a primarily-military hub for weapons, vehicles, and even Imperial Intelligence, that wasn't surprising at any rate. The garrison stationed within spitting distance of the docking facilities was a bit overkill, but within the expectations he had for Imperial security. Assaulting the shipment head-on would be nothing short of suicide. _Maybe_ they could get to the shipment. _Maybe_ they could even liberate it from the security detachment that would inevitably come with it. But getting out would be out of the question, they would be drowning in blaster fire and thermal detonators before they could take a step towards freedom. The only way to successfully get out of there alive was to be ghosts, and not upset the security in any way.

"I agree, if we waltz-in blasters blazing we'll end up with extra breathing holes in ourselves. How good are you at keeping things silent?" he asked, shifting his attention to the girl, who seemed to think long and hard about the situation laid out in front of them.

"I don't like it very much, but I can do it. You really think we can ghost this one?"

"If we want to live to see the profit, we are going to have to. Unfortunately, that means our employers don't get to participate on the score. We can't babysit three others _and_ do the job at the same time. Might as well just go heavy and accept our fates" he gave his final assessment, already putting the optics back in their case and leaning with his elbows in the table they had shared.

"Well, there's the annoyingly-overcautious coward I heard about" she teased with a smirk, putting her tough-girl façade that she loved so much.

"You are a lot friendlier with a lightsaber aimed to your neck…"

Sabine gasped with mock-indignance and rapidly used her empty caf cardboard mug against him. Dax dodged the improvised projectile with a loud snicker, laughing at Sabine's frustration when she missed her objective. It wasn't lost on him that, as predicted by their employer, they had gotten along just fine. Hell, to an outsider it would probably seem like they were best friends for a long time now. No one would guess that just the day before they almost killed each other.

"I told you not to be shitty…"

"And where would I have learned to follow your orders?"

* * *

They were heading back into the safe house before sunset, riding a two-seat speeder among the busy traffic of Lianna City. It was standard procedure, and common sense, to bunk up in a relatively secluded area, so they had to drive a fair amount of time there. While Dax did so, Sabine seemed particularly fond of teasing and berate him for his, according to her, poor driving skills.

"By the Force, even a blind Tooka drives better than you!" she whined, willing him to go just a tad faster. However, he was, as usual, unfazed by her impatience, and stuck to his careful and conservative driving. The last thing they needed was to be pulled over by the Empire for a speeding ticket.

"If you want to blow the job before it even starts, go ahead and walk yourself into an Imperial garrison and pick a fight. I didn't get where I am by taking unnecessary risks" Dax simply commented, keeping an eye on the way forward. Sabine rolled her eyes at him, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips, as she leaned back into her seat and looked at the sights speeding past them. The silence that followed was a comfortable one, it allowed her to see some of the things she was too busy ignoring a few days prior, and him to get a respite of the girl's energy and spunkiness. He had to admit, had he been looking to get attached to someone, he couldn't have done much better than her. She was a stark contrast to him, and would reluctantly admit that her energy was an extreme offset of his own cautiousness, and her target-like colorfulness clashed with his own drab preferences. For every intent and purpose, she was the opposite of him, and that fact sold the idea that they both complimented each other.

Too bad he wasn't looking.

Meanwhile, Sabine's thoughts were similar to his, all of it without any of them knowing. She would lie if she said that she didn't found his attitude… interesting. Here was a guy who had been convicted of one of the most heinous crimes in the galaxy, falsely, to boot, and instead of giving himself to the drink or grade A drugs (lots of which existed in the circles he moved on) he had decided to take on a job -however shitty it was- and had cultivated a cautious, calculating, and deadly persona. Maybe it was a bit of stretch to say he was a clean person, but she had seen junkies and drunkards by the ton in her rather short stint as a bounty hunter. He wasn't the type. His armor, though with a dent or two showing its use, was otherwise in good shape, his weapons were properly maintained (on the outside at least), and he didn't reek of alcohol, drugs, or desperation. For all intents and purposes, he was an honest-to-Force mercenary in an unsavory societal rung. She could see herself with someone like him, but it wouldn't be him. He was obviously more interested in finding something, whatever it was. The vibe he exuded was that of someone looking for something to continue forward, something to give him a purpose. Whether he knew it or not, he was looking for something far more meaningful than doing someone else's dirty work for money. And that was something she envied with her whole self. Besides her painting, there was nothing she was expecting to get out of life. Hell, not even that, at this point. The Empire frowned heavily upon artistic expression, quelling any dissent that threatened to defy their power. If she got caught, or worse, killed, her work would go the way of Mustafar, and nobody would ever know that Sabine of Clan Wren, House Vizsla, even existed, and that she had dared to defy the gloominess and darkness that had engulfed the galaxy. It was a depressing thought, even more so now that she was sitting beside a guy who seemed to already have big ambitions, consciously or not.

 _Well, now I'm depressed,_ Sabine thought with a bit of a sarcastic tinge, as she ignored his glare when she set her feet over the dashboard.

* * *

"That was not part of the deal, kid. We agreed to a fee renegotiation just so you could tell us it can't be done?"

"I said the dock assault is not happening. If you really want those weapons so bad then you are going to go with our plan, whether you like it or not"

The Mandos stood their ground as incredulous looks peppered them, coming from the three other individuals of assorted species across them from the holo-table. A 3D holographic map of the target was displayed, with indicators hovering all over the place designating the transports that the couple had recorded in their scouting.

"What plan? You are basically winging it, kid, and I don't care to make that wager very much, thank you, so the answer is no" his employer, Derso Walig, was really starting to annoy the kriff out of him. If Sabine thought he was over-cautious, then this guy was a whole other level above him

"Fine, then good luck dying of acute plasma poisoning, because you are never getting out of there alive, and I most certainly will _not_ go with you…"

"Then The Artist will cover us…"

"No, I won't, I'm not in a hurry to die either. You proceed with the assault you go alone, I'd rather have to pick up another job than this being my last one" Sabine countered, arms crossed in front of her chest and looking dead-serious.

The three grown-ups glared at the teenagers before looking at each other and taking a few steps back to converse among themselves, leaving them to guess what exactly is it that they were saying.

"You think they'll wise up?" Sabine inquired, sitting at the edge of a crate alongside him. Her refusal to help them get killed had thoroughly surprised Dax, who had figured her for the loose-cannon type. If you ever asked him who he recommended to lead a suicidal charge into an Imperial fortification he would have recommended Sabine Wren (or The Artist, rather, since that was her professional name in the lower levels) without giving it much thought. Yet, here he was, pondering about the exact reason why she would agree that frontal suicide wasn't her cup of Juma.

"They'll try to come up with a way to go forward, but in the end, they'll probably realize that they would rather live to spend the profits than taking a needless risk that will be their last for sure. If not, well, I was thinking we could give the heist a shot on our own after they get killed. Does half and half sound good to you?"

"Are you asking me out on a date? How bold of you!" Wren teased, dedicating a smirk to Dax, for which she got a pronounced eye-roll in return.

"Keep it up and I'll do it on my own"

"Fine, fine. Fifty-fifty sounds fair enough. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, though, our hosts might just have a brainwave"

"I wouldn't hold my breath on that. I'm going to hit the sack, wake me up when they reach a consensus?" he asked, taking care of not giving her much of a window to tease.

"I thought you said you weren't sleeping anywhere near me? I'm still very much in the building" Wren asked, throwing his words against him as a way to get back to him for saying them. Force, could she be annoying…

"There's this beautiful new thing called 'door lock', which you will _not_ violate unless you want a plasma bolt straight to the neck" he cautioned, rubbing his own neck and starting towards the bedrooms.

"Yeesh, passive aggressive much?" Sabine muttered, glancing towards their retreating employers. Come to think of it, she was feeling a little tired herself, and was already threading around the idea of catching some Zs herself when her eye caught onto something that must definitely not be where it was. Dax had removed his armor's gloves and left them above the crate he had been leaning on. Sabine toyed with the idea that maybe she should take them to him right until another far more dangerous thought occurred to her: he could use a bit of color in his life. With a mischievous smirk firmly plastered in her face, she swiped them off the crate and sauntered to her temporary quarters, locking the door behind her and setting her pack on the workbench, laden with art supplies that she liked to take with her everywhere. She took a good look at the austere pieces of gear, the cogs in her head already spinning and cranking out different ideas, anything from the colors to be used, to the patterns and textures.

 _Let's do it simple. He likes his 'Hex' shapes, along with camouflage patterns. Seriously doubt he's planning on spending too much time in jungles and deserts, so that leaves most green and sand color swatches out of the question…_

She was normally not a fan of grays and drab, but his customized WESTAR had caught her eye, and she had to admit it suited his collected and level-headed personality. Besides, there was no harm in trying new things every now and then, and Sabine Wren wasn't one to turn down a challenge.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he was finally back on his senses was that there was not a single noise coming from anywhere in the safe house. Adding to that, nobody had come knocking to wake him up, when he had distinctly asked Wren to wake him up when the new plan had been approved. With suspicion brewing inside him, he headed for the fresher to splash some ice-cold water in his face and rinse off the morning breath that inevitably accompanied a trip to the land of sleep. A haggard and tired young man peered at him from the mirror's reflection, leaving him to wonder if he really looked _so_ old. Not stopping to ponder his existence, he left the room and made a trip around the place, looking for someone. _Anyone._ Not even at the kitchen, where they seemed to spend a lot of time, going by their questionable physical fitness.

'Kitchen' immediately triggered a feeling of hunger, and his stomach growled in confirmation, then nearly in frustration at finding the fridge empty. And shut off.

 _No power? Check. No friendlies? Check_

The heavy thumping of plastoid boots faintly made its way to his senses, growing stronger by the second. Not a march, something more… casual.

 _Door breach. Sons of two-bit prostitutes!_

They had been sold, of that he was sure when he bolted back upstairs and forced open Sabine's room door. She was sleeping peacefully, strewn all over the single tier bunk that occupied the opposite side of the room's door. In other circumstances, he would have found the scene amusing, maybe bordering on 'cute', but right now there were more pressing concerns.

"Wren, wake up! We have to move!" he ordered while shaking her awake. Still in a sleepy state, she mumbled a little incoherently, but came back to her senses when she recognized the urgency of what he was trying to convey.

"Wha… what's going on? Why are you in a hurry?"

"We've been made, the Emperor's lapdogs are coming. They'll breach the entrance in a couple of minutes, we need to hold them and find an exit or we'll be very, very dead, very, very soon."

"What?! How did they find this place?

"Give you one guess who…"

"Walig… Force damned di'kut! I bet he sold us in exchange for the shipment. I'm going to end him!" Sabine seethed with rage. One thing a Mando never forgives? Treason. When you so happen to have already lived through it, it was all the more infuriating.

"Revenge later, staying alive now!" Dax whispered, listening as the soldiers outside affixed a detonator to begin their breach, "where are my gloves?"

He frantically looked around for them, not wanting to lose two perfectly good blades in oe go, before a blur of drab and solid color was thrusted into his sight. The blur resolved into the shape of his colored armor gloves, and he gave the most incredulous look of question towards his associate.

"I thought… you could use some color…" she innocently answered, looking a lot less like a proud Mandalorian warrior and a lot more like a child caught red-handed.

"You could have asked!" he snipped, still recovering from the shock, but doing his best not to show hostility. After all, it wasn't that he hated the work, he just didn't like the liberty she had taken with his stuff.

"Sorry"

"Never mind that, we need to get out of here"

"But I need to pack my art supplies!"

The sound of the door blasting open and a group of Stormtroopers barging into the structure made her priorities shift, although the loss of any of her supplies would make her less than happy.

"Move upstairs, find the traitors! Check those corners and shoot to kill, let's not take any chances with these thieves!" came from the staircase, signaling the approach of danger. Dax stacked on the door, motioning for Sabine to stay close and quiet. The door parted open again, revealing the barrel of a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle, an armored glove attached to it too. In one swift motion, he kicked the barrel downwards, drove his fist into the faceplate of the helmeted shock trooper, and then delivered a headbutt with his own. The stunned opponent had time to call out, making the others down the hallway turn and aim towards the both of them. Thinking quickly, he used the superior armor of the shock trooper as cover, having it take the majority of the incoming fire and effectively having the Imperials kill their own man. During the scuffle, he had acquired the DLT-19 for himself and now turned the tables on the bucketheads, using the remaining charge in the magazine to gun down the group. The screams, the smell of burnt flesh and ozone… it was a good thing both of them were already so desensitized towards the carnage of warfare, because the sensory overload would be enough to slowly drive others insane.

The DLT's barrel smoked all the way to the floor once Dax was done, unholstering his WESTAR blaster.

"Are you hit?" he asked, peeking into her room, hoping he wouldn't have to carry an injured person while fighting the intruders.

"Pshht, that was child's play, don't insult me like that" she boasted, probably meaning it. Probably not. Dax was in no mood to play those games at that moment. Sabine put on her helmet and followed him towards the staircase, where they stopped to observe and try to find a way out. The rest of the troopers had been alerted to the blaster fire, and were setting up a pattern of fire that would effectively pin them if they tried to go down the stairs.

"If we try to move downstairs they'll cut us down in no time…"

"Yeah, but there's no way out from this level, they probably have the place surrounded" it was a fair point, and Dax could Ill afford to ignore her expertise, so going outside was out of the question.

"Wait, remember the city maps? Wasn't this whole place built above an old catacombs nexus?"

"Yeah, so?" Sabine wasn't exactly seeing how such a realization would possibly save their skins.

"Just… we need to cross this hallway, I'll go low, you go high, cover to cover. We need to make it to that room above the kitchen" Dax instructed, ducking as blaster bolts began peppering the wall they were using as cover.

"You first!" Sabine half-joked, pulling out her own blasters and laying down fire with both at the same time. While she moved in a standing stance, Dax moved on his own on a crouch, adding his own fire to the fight. The armored enemies ducked for cover, having depleted their magazines in their first barrage and making targets out of themselves. Nevertheless, the teenagers' focus wasn't on killing, but driving them to cover, just long enough to be able to move. The dreadful crossing was done before long, Sabine remaining near the door to keep them from coming up the staircase.

"What now?"

"Keep me covered, I'll breach the floor to the kitchen, and then make a second breach to the catacombs!" he explained, setting thermal detonators in a circle on the room's floors.

"Won't they be able to follow us?" Sabine asked, firing at an incoming trooper and catching him square in the chest piece, sending him tumbling down the stairs into another two of his comrades. Another trooper tried to prime a thermal detonator, but a single-handed shot from the girl set it off right on his hands, obliterating the unlucky guy and everyone in a 2 meter radius around him.

"Not when the explosives cache downstairs goes off"

If she hadn't been wearing a helmet, she would be giving him a withering look.

"Where did all this impulsivity come from?" she had to ask, keeping an eye out for the enemies' next move.

"It's a calculated risk. Besides, I don't see you proposing a better idea"

"Fine, let's do it!"

As soon as she finished that sentence the detonators went off, cracking the duracrete below their feet and sending a shower of rubble into the house's kitchen along with the two teenagers, who landed rather ungracefully. Without stopping to check anything else, they collected themselves off the floor and got to the second phase of the plan.

"In the kitchen! It's them! Fire, fire!" Another trooper shouted, and a volley of blaster shots was soon on its way towards them.

"You alright?" Dax asked, blind-firing over the counter, not really interested in hitting anything.

"I'm fine, just a sprained ankle" Sabine spat, mad at herself for forgetting how to land properly after a fall and having sustained an injury for it. _So stupid!_

"It'll heal, you'll be fine"

"It's not _that_ what I'm worried about, laserbrain!"

"Whatever. Get these guys off me, I'm setting the second breach" he nearly shouted, the roar of the firefight making it hard to hear each other even when crouched side-by-side. Sabine herself blind-fired at the enemy, sending them to the nearest corner and hitting two troopers who had been overconfident enough to stand on open ground. The enemy fire nearly died down, giving her opportunity to aim and pick off other troopers too slow to quickly take cover, thinning down their ranks until only experienced fighters remained. These ones she could only suppress, for trying to openly engage them would quickly turn into an ugly situation that would end up with Dax short of a partner. In her adrenaline-fueled state, she barely felt the second explosion, or Dax shouting at her to go down the hole in the floor. Sabine was only snapped out of it when she felt some pull her backwards, making her land on her back inside the gaping darkness. Something landed over her just before the whole world around her exploded and the house came down on them.

* * *

"Everyone alright? Sound off!" the commander ordered over the network, gradually receiving affirmative answers, with a call for medical help every now and then. The Imperial leader took a good look at the structure they had been occupying just a few minutes ago. The explosion alone was enough to kill anyone standing inside without armor, and that's not taking into account the tons of rubble coming down on them. The traitors _had_ to be dead.

"Anyone that's not injured, have a look around, try to find corpses…"

"Sir, no one could have survived that…"

"Search anyways! If you see them, if they move, you shoot them until they stop doing so!"

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

"You alright?"

"You are boring me with that question" Sabine whispered back, squinting her eyes as Dax activated a small hand-held flashlight and illuminated the cavern they were in. He had rolled off and taken her with him just as the house caved in, avoiding being buried by the falling building. The armor they wore had taken the brunt of the damage, in any case, and it allowed them to remain conscious to drag themselves further in and away from any more possible entombment. Right now, they were waiting for the enemy to give up looking for them, sitting in silence and listening carefully. It would take a while, they concluded in no time, so they set themselves comfortable to wait.

"Show me your ankle" he ordered in a whisper, taking her foot into his hands.

"Usenye! I'm fine!"

"Stop being a baby!" he snapped back, removing his helmet to look at her. The serious look in his face told her that she wasn't going anywhere until he checked on her. Looking sideways for a moment and sighing, she removed her own helmet and gave up, letting him take her boot off and cut into the body glove with a small vibroknife. Around a piece of rebar, "You call _this_ a sprained ankle?"

Sabine huffed and sucked air in when she felt the piece of shrapnel being touched.

"Are you going to… you now…"

"Well, unless you want to walk around with a nearly shredded foot… yeah, I have to pull it out" he wasn't a doctor, per se, but he knew enough to perform basic procedures in the field. And Bacta was magical, anyways…

"It's gonna hurt…"

"And here I thought you were fearless…."

"I still feel, you shab!" she half-joked, gritting her teeth for the pain sure to come. While doing this, she felt a hand taking her own, and was taken aback when she realized it was his.

"Ready?", he almost seemed to care, waiting for her to nod affirmative after accepting the incoming sensation.

It couldn't be too fast, lest he caused more tissue damage, nor too slow so he caused unnecessary pain. It didn't matter, anyways, as Sabine's eyes watered and her jaw hung low in a silent scream, eyes shut tight. Not even after the rebar was out did she find solace, as the pain caused her to breath faster, and the tears to now become river. She wouldn't scream, but Force if she didn't want to…

A dose of quick-clot powder kept the bleeding at bay, and a Bacta patch of a particularly strong variety followed it.

"I h-hate these ones... M-make me drowsy…" she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed to ward off the throbbing coming from her foot.

"I know, I don't like them either, but they'll have you up in 12 hours, give or take. After all, you wouldn't want to miss out on payback, would you?" he invited, bandaging the wound to facilitate the healing factor. Sabine smiled despite it all, thankful for a partner that wouldn't choose his own ass over her integrity. It wasn't lost on her that she had trusted someone she considered a sister and ended up with nothing, while a complete stranger had just performed a possibly life-saving procedure on her (you try to avoid Imperial patrols on a shredded foot, see how well that goes for you). Yes, galaxy was, indeed, 'kriffed up like that'.

"Thank you" this time she was honest, no sass or sarcasm on her voice. It was pure Sabine who was thanking him for the help. And the smile she dedicated to him, that was genuine too, he hadn't seen it on her before.

 _It's a pretty smile too…_

"Sure thing", he tried to reciprocate, but they both realized it was not his thing to smile, chuckling at how flat-out dumb he looked while trying to do so, "rest up, I'll listen in for another while and grab some more shut-eye. We'll need it"

Sabine nodded and tried to get as comfortable as possible, considering she was lying on top of rocks and concrete. Her foot ached, her back will be killing her in a couple of days from the uncomfortable sleeping accommodations, and the Empire was looking for them to finish the job. There was too little that could go worse, but there was no other way she would rather ride a storm out than with someone who knew just what the hell it was that he was doing.

The intensity of the beam of light was lowered to a level where they would easily be able to sleep without complication, and the soothing low-light soon took the toll on her, sending her into dreamland peacefully, soon followed by Dax after he settled the light by her side and picked a different napping spot to stave off any post-slumber awkwardness.

Before dozing off, he stole a glance at Sabine's sleeping form, looking away almost as soon as he had settled her eyes on her.

 _You are not looking, so focus on what's important and be done with this._

Attachment had put him in these situations. He couldn't afford to do worse.

He settled with his back towards her and just dozed off, dreaming of star birds, fire, color streaks, and a face that he couldn't quite put his finger on…

* * *

 **Took me long enough.  
**

 **So... Ezra and Sabine's travel to Madalore is coming today, if I'm not mistaken, on Disney XD. I don't know about you, but I am VERY excited for it. Hopefully there'll be some Ezrabine references, like in a certain other episode (references, people, not confirmation), but I'm mostly pumped to know just who Sabine's mother is.**

 **Anyways, please take time to Review, I can't improve on stuff if I don't know what is it that you don't like, remember that. See you around.**


	4. Annoying partners

Sabine came to first, her back aching at the uncomfortable surface she had laid herself on. Still, for some reason, that was the best bout of sleep she had had in a while. Maybe it was because of the rather strong type of bacta infused in her system, considering that she had been knocked out cold in no time by the chemical, or maybe the fact that there was too little risk of being found by the Empire, but in any case, the point stood about the quality of the sleep she just had. Adding to that notion, her injury didn't feel that bad anymore, and she was sure she would be able to leave the catacombs by her own power. But there was something missing in the picture, and she found it -or rather, him- on the opposite side of the room they occupied, lying with his back facing her. Faint memories of things she had said and thought under the influence of bacta made their way to her memory, and Sabine found herself cringing at how uncomfortable and awkward it seemed now. _Manda help me, I was a normal teenager for a couple of minutes_ , she couldn't avoid thinking with irony.

With little effort, she moved herself towards Dax, lightly shaking him awake and watching as he rubbed at his eyes while they adjusted to the faint light that still came from the flashlight.

"Had a good night's sleep?" she smirked, waiting for him to finish stretching after sitting up.

"Not really, this bratty teenager kept me up all night with her troubles and love problems" he teased at her, earning a harsh glare and a shove that made him laugh even harder. Aggravating each other came natural, apparently.

"When did you become such a bastard?"

"it's your fault, you started it. Let me see your foot."

"Kriff off, I'm not letting you touch me"

"Either you do it voluntarily, or I'll stun you and do it out of my own accord. Your choice" his sternness, laced with a little playfulness, took her aback. He took her silence in stride and extended his hand, ready for her to gently place her injured extremity atop of it. Without thinking much, Sabine took the invitation, watching him peel away the stained bandages, inspect the still-tender skin that had formed where a nasty wound had been not a day ago, and then gently wrap it again in a clean bandage, just to be safe. It surprised her how careful and thoughtful he was through the process, still not used to someone being this nice to her without expecting something in return. Her reverie was cut short when she felt a familiar and _very_ annoying sensation curse her leg, as he tickled her after he was done with the bandage. Out of instinct, Sabine let out a healthy dose of laughter, trying to shake free of his grip and kicking him in the chest piece of his armor when she finally managed so, sending Dax stumbling backwards in a heap of laughter himself.

"Don't do that ever again!" she blurted, her laughter dying down while she did her best to control and steady her breathing again. Sabine really did hate being tickled, but with the stress of nearly dying and being constantly on the run from the all-encompassing tyranny, she found that a good laughter was very much needed, and thus gave him a free pass for that one time alone.

"As you wish, milady. We have to move, though. Do you think you can manage that?" he asked, settling down too for things to come.

"I'll be fine, you lead the way"

* * *

"Are we lost?"

"No, Wren, we are not lost…"

"Because it does look like we are lost"

"Yes, I know, but we are not lost"

"Why are we lost?"

"We are not lost, Force dammit!"

"….So?"

"I just…. Don't know where we are…"

"That's called 'being lost'…"

"I hate you so much"

* * *

"See? I told you we weren't lost" Dax triumphantly declared, firing at the lock keeping the catacombs' grating in place. The heavy plating clattered down the floor, and out came the Mandalorians, keeping to the shadows generated by the streetlights to avoid detection.

"Right, is that why we had to double back more than a few times and look at the maps more than once?" Sabine sarcastically asked, peeking above into the streets, making sure there were no Troopers in sight.

"I was just making sure that your head was still in the game" she rolled her eyes at this and decided to drop the subject that she would, quite obviously, not win. Instead, she settled for something that they actually needed. Like knowing exactly where the kriff they were.

"Do you even know where we are?"

"Yep"

"So?"

"You are not going to believe it" Dax simply answered, motioning for her to activate her rangefinder to see for herself.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. What are the chances of that?!" it was a valid question. The chances of them getting lost in the catacombs, finding their way towards an exit, _and_ that exit to happen to lead into _the Imperial dock they had been scouting_ where ridiculously small. They had, apparently, lucked out, though, and that's exactly where they had ended up.

"I don't know. But I do know what comes next"

"Don't you think they'll be expecting us? Walig knew the general idea of our plan, he could have told the Empire what to expect" Sabine made a valid question, which they hadn't stopped to consider since their brush with death.

"For all they know, we are already dead. If I were them, I wouldn't be spending time, manpower, and resources on dead people…"

"Still, maybe we should be careful?"

"Seriously, aren't you supposed to be the impulsive one? What's with you?" oh, now he was just being annoying in a different way.

"Maybe your annoying overcautiousness is rubbing off on me"

"Hardy har…"

"Besides, it's not lost on me that I lost my art supplies thanks to you!"

"Oh, come on, that's not fair! I wasn't the one blasting doors open and trying to kill us!" Dax protested silently, coming down from the small ledge he was standing in and looking directly at her.

"No matter, you were the one who wouldn't buy me enough time to pack all of my stuff…"

"Wonderful…" Dax rolled his eyes, knowing he would get no respite from that anytime soon.

* * *

The last hour had been a complete shit show. Dragging themselves along the barren wasteland that separated the dock from the normal world had been an excruciating journey, specially so under the cowls that they used for visual concealment. Add the armor that both of them usually wore, and the 200 meter crawl started to feel like a kilometer long trail.

"You forgot to mention that we would have to crawl. Not the easiest thing to do while in full armor, genius!" Sabine whispered angrily, lying flat on her belly with the cowl covering her form.

"And exactly how did you think we would get past the motion sensors and biometric scanners, nerf herder? Besides, what are you complaining about? You barely got any armor on yourself, I am the one dragging his fully-armored ass across the floor" Dax simply retorted back, making her chuckle lightly before motioning slowly for her to can it and keep moving. The duo had spent three hours on the harrowing endeavor, and having a simple noise detector blow it all away wasn't an appealing idea. The last 20 meters felt eternal, but once they were safely across the wall of sensors, they wasted no time moving forward, locating an employee access point and hacking it open.

"Eyes open, watch the corners, we don't want this caper blown open by a stray bucket head"

"At this point, it wouldn't matter, it seems like security inside is as lax as usual. These idiots are way too overconfident" Sabine commented, folding up and tucking away the cowl in her pack.

"Overconfidence makes you careless. That's how people end up upside down with their guts out, remember?" Dax pointed out, motioning forward while aiming his WESTAR one-handed. Sabine did the same, keeping an eye in their backs as they inspected the structure room by room. Offices, personal bunk spaces, a mess hall, triage… even a very weird room that they would pretend to have never seen if anyone asked.

"Dear Force…" Dax muttered to himself, swallowing hard and closing the door. Sabine's eyes were wide and her lips pursed close, "let's uh… keep going"

"Yeah… good idea"

The hallway ended rather abruptly, the stairs to the second level hidden behind a door. Somebody didn't hire an architect to plan the place, apparently, even a little kid would have come up with a more sensible approach, but that didn't exactly matter at that point. As they crossed the threshold into the second level, a set of voices called their attention, growing louder as they covered the distance to the next corner and becoming recognizable even before they rounded the corner.

"Oh, that bastard sold us, alright" Sabine whispered, her hand tensing around her blaster's grip, "he's mine"

"After I have a talk with him, sure. If you shoot him before that it will all be for nothing. The other two you can kill, though"

"Fair enough"

Both teens prepared, stacking up at the door. Dax hit the control panel and the door parted, a light grenade lobbed into the room and bathing even the hallway in a bright light, stunning the owners of the voices before they could even make out what had sailed right in their direction. With swift speed, Sabine headed him off and shot an Ithorian and a Sullustan dead center in the chest. The Theelin tried to pull his own blaster, but a quick kick to the gut and a headbutt sent him crashing against the glass table and put him out of action.

"We got you now, hut 'uun!"

"Careful, Sabine, I need him alive to break his legs"

"Can't I do that myself?"

"After the questions. What do you say, Walig? You want broken legs or quick death?" Dax inquired, and by the look of his face after he pulled his helmet off, he was meaning every word of his threat.

"Kriff off, stupid kids. If I had known it was this easy to get stuff from the Empire, I would have sold you out days ago"

"Poor choice of words. Wren?" he nodded to her, signaling the stomp that broke every single one of Walig's right toes. Boy, was Sabine angry…

"You better start talking, or I'll start breaking stuff that matters to you!" the teenaged girl threatened, almost in a whisper.

"I'm not scared, you little dumb c…" before finishing, Sabine had already slammed her heel on his good toes, utterly enjoying his squirming, yelling, and everything in between.

"Okay, okay, Sabine, that's enough. Don't you think so?"

"Nowhere near what this or'dinii deserves"

"I know, but maybe he feels a little bit more helpful. What do you say, Walig?"

"Ask your Force-damned questions already!"

"Yep, he feels cooperative, so hold on just a sec. Question number one lands you some mercy, so listen carefully. Where's the shipment?"

"I don't know what…"

"Oh, I should have been clearer about the consequences of lying, though. Sabine, did you ever learn how to pull an eyeball out with a single thumb?" Dax casually asked, as if he was asking her if she could use a vacuum cleaner. Sabine, on the other hand, did not give out any sign that what he was asking was pure BS.

"No, but I'm a fast learner"

"I bet you are. We only need a volunteer, though…"

"No! No, no, no, no! Dock 9, the weapons are in Dock 9! Even if you get them, though, what will you do with them?! All the dealers in this dirtball were alerted to not deal with anyone after your little escapade!"

"I'll worry about that. Second question, who did you deal with? Be a good boy and I might just kill you quickly"

"Speak for yourself" Sabine's hatred was going through the roof, and the last thing Dax wanted was for Walig to die before ceasing to be useful.

"Cool, it Sabs. Name, now, Walig."

"I don't know his name! All I know is that he was an ISB agent! They seemed pretty interested in you two, they didn't even hesitate when we asked for the weapons as payment!"

Imperial Security Bureau. If they were looking for them, then their days could be numbered if they stayed on-planet. Time to leave and never look back.

"Good, I'm done. All yours, Sabine"

"No, wait!"

Dax didn't, and he pretended he did not hear how the girl took payback from the man that betrayed them and nearly succeeded in selling them out.

* * *

"You sure you are ok?"

"I'm fine, let's get this over with, alright?"

Sabine's mood had darkened as the after-action adrenaline wore out and her mind started to duel on what she had just done. Killing someone wasn't something she took lightly, and upon realizing she had enjoyed it… well, she felt no better than the very Empire she fought against. It should not have been so easy, she should have _not_ felt the joy she had.

 _What the kriff is wrong with me?_

"Hey" Dax snapped her off her thoughts, already being his usual self, "I know how you are feeling. You might think you are above it all, but you are just a sentient. You can make mistakes, it's ok and it's also ok to feel like crap about it."

"But I'm…I'm Mandalorian, I _am_ supposed to be above all of it"

"You might think so, but guess what? Culture does not trump nature. And frankly, if you didn't feel crappy about it, I would worry to stand by your side. More than the usual."

Sabine chuckled as silently as she could, wiping at her eyes and looking away to hide the couple of tears that had threatened to run down her cheeks. Upon feeling a light weight land in one of her shoulders, she looked back up and steeled herself.

"Come on, let's finish this"

"I like that attitude. We might just make it out of this one."

Donning their helmets on again, they left their hiding spot, sticking to the few shadows cast in the docks, between warehouses and offices, and around junctions. The tarmac of Dock 9 was visible even from their starting position, finding it wasn't exactly the problem. The problem were all the Stormtroopers standing in their way, along with the sensors that no one had seen fit to place around the complex where they had just fried the crap out of the Empire's guests. As usual, people were expendable to the Empire, all that mattered was the war effort and machinery. Dax motioned her upwards, letting her use him as a boost to reach the upper level where she would have a better over watch position.

"See that shuttle on the tarmac?"

"Yes"

"That's our way out. I'll load the loot in it and fly low to pick you up. As soon as I disappear inside you get ready to move, alright?"

"I'll be alright. You be careful, though…"

"Sabine Wren, are you actually worried about me?"

Inside her helmet, Sabine rolled her eyes and chortled over the comm.

"Not the way you think, lover boy. Now move it, I don't want to be stranded here anymore"

Dax laughed despite himself, then following the duracrete wall in the general direction of his objective. Sabine would caution whenever he got too close to any guards, and the sensors were easy to spot using electromagnetic filters in their helmets.

"Hold! Don't move!" he heard through the comm, and instantly ducked bellow the hull of a TX-130T hover tank. At first, he couldn't see them, but the patches of darkness resolved into the image of two Dark Troopers, clad in their distinctive jet-black armor and nonchalantly chatting about this and that. Had he not been warned, he would have walked right into them, and probably, at the very least, end up having to escape through a hail of plasma.

"Nice one, Sabs. I'm moving into the tarmac, is it clear?"

"Yep, you got a clear approach, but I don't see the weapons"

"They must be by the storage building. I'm going in, get ready"

* * *

"Can't believe this crap" Flynn Jargin fumed, moving crates and equipment around in a manner that would earn him a reprimand… if his supervisor were around at all. The bastard had left him to tend a double shift, as it was becoming a trend now, and to make sure his work hours were logged in properly. On a basic level, his boss was forcing him to commit fraud, earning a salary for basically doing nothing except hit the local brothels. And he was getting nothing out of it. As if he didn't hate his job already.

He was well on his way to be done and flip the birdie at it all, but suddenly he found himself flat on his back over the workstation he shared with his so-called boss and with a hydrospanner aimed vaguely in the direction of his face.

"Good evening, how you doing?" a voice came through his assailant's speech modulator, still sounding very much human.

"F-fine, I-I g-guess" Flynn managed, stuttering out of pure fear and shock.

"Too bad, I was hoping your life was living hell, but oh, well. Where is Walig's shipment?"

"O-over there, I-I was supposed to w-wait for their instruction…"

"Well, lucky for you, no such thing will happen. How do you deactivate the trackers in the weapons?"

"The trackers are already deactivated. Walig was very specific about that!"

Dax had to consider what came next. Killing an Imperial wasn't something he would lose a lot of sleep over. On the other hand, a lot of people ended up working for the empire due to having very little other choice, and this might as well be such a case. And he was leaving, never to come back again, anyways.

"You behaved rather well, so I'll do you this one favor" Dax stated matter-of-factly before knocking Flynn out cold with the hydrospanner.

* * *

"Sabine, I'm loading the weapons. How's everything out there?"

"As usual, for now, but hurry it up!"

"I'm on it!"

* * *

"Sir, the shuttle at Dock 9 is preparing to take off without authorization" an Imperial Flight Control Officer cautioned, double-checking his facts to avoid incurring a mistake.

"Isn't that the bounty hunters' shuttle, Ensign?" the docks' Commanding Officer questioned, sounding as disinterested as he felt.

"Yes, sir, but they have _not_ communicated at all since the engine spooled up"

"Hail them over all the available Comm channels, and prepare the anti-air batteries, just in case"

"Yes, sir! Shuttle 3-4, this is Control, you will answer and comply with all instructions, or you will be shot down. Acknowledge!"

* * *

The Imperial transmission came in, and Dax did what he did best: ignore it.

"Ok, where's the…oh, here it is" his hand found the triggers, barely sticking out from the control. A holographic crosshair was displayed over the windshield, laced to the ship's targeting systems.

"Yeah, uh, Control, isn't it?"

"Who is this?! You are not the owner of that ship!"

"Yeah, about that…"

The canons sprung to life, engulfing the upper level of the control tower in searing plasma, and turning the glass and duracrete into deadly shrapnel. Even from the ground the figures in the tower could be seen scattering and trying to run away from the strafing, some succeeding, but most finding themselves square into the sights of the enemy and cut down where they stood. While doing this, Dax lowered the boarding ramp and maneuvered towards Sabine's hiding spot, waiting until the girl presented herself at the cockpit before once again closing the ramp and aiming the shuttle's nose upwards and into space.

"Breaking orbit, scan for pursuers" Dax asked, keeping his attention on his flying.

"No pursuers in the sensors, I don't think they'll recover from that any time… Wait, contact coming out of Hyperspace!" Sabine warned, looking out the window to see an Imperial Transport breaking Hyperspace and heading straight for them, "Uh, Dax…"

"I see it, I see it! Fire up the shields in this old piece of crap!"

Sabine's fingers danced all over the instruments, looking for the manual override to the shields and, possibly, any weapons that their ship could possibly have. Two TIE fighters streaked past in a strafing run, lighting alarms all over the instrument panel and nearly tripping them off their seats.

"The shields are down, I cannot override them, and there are _no_ weapons in this thing!"

"Kriff it! Strap in, we are jumping now!"

The navigation computer finished the calculations to a nearby empty zone of space, where they could give it more time to plot a course to any other place but there. The ship accelerated until the stars became white streaks, leaving the Empire to scratch their heads and lick their wounds.

* * *

"We were cutting it close back there" Sabine casually commented, leaning back in the seat while Dax looked around, putting out small fires and soldering wires back together.

"As per the usual. We got some good out of it, though"

"You still owe me for my art supplies!" she sulked, swiveling in the chair to turn her back on him.

"Oh, grow the kriff up!"

Sabine gasped and gawked, feeling quite insulted, swiveling back and kicking him with the sole of her boot, sending him flying backwards into the bulkhead.

"Don't speak to me!"

* * *

"Okay, we are ready to jump all the way into Corellia and sell this crap"

"…"

"Wren…"

"…"

"Sabine…"

"…"

"Oh, come on!"

"…"

"Fine, I guess I can just keep your share..."

"Don't you dare!"

"Hah! Gotcha!"

"Oh, you kriffing little sh…."

* * *

"Impressive, kiddo. You know, when you told me you were bringing in all of this, I was very skeptical. Too good to be true, and all that" an older gentleman by the name of Kerr Vangrow bantered, clearly younger at heart.

"What, having worked for you doesn't buy me some trust?"

"Nope"

"Well, thanks. I think you know Sabine Wren" Dax introduced, vaguely gesturing to the girl by his side.

"Aren't you too young to be tied to someone?"

" _WHAT?!"_ Both teenagers exclaimed in shock, struggling to put distance between each other in such tight quarters. Kerr laughed heartily at them, clearly getting what he wanted (amusement), before simply producing two packs containing the payment the man had negotiated with the younger Mandalorian bounty hunter that usually brought valuable stuff to sell to him.

"Relax you two. And I did get that thing you asked me for, kiddo"

"Thank you, keep it shut!"

"What's that about?" Sabine looked between both men, highly suspicious of not being in the loop.

"Don't mind it, let's go, before old man goes nuts again"

Vangrow huffed, bringing down his staff to conk the young man in the head, making him yelp and holler in pain. Sabine just couldn't keep it together, breaking down in laughter at seeing the cocky teenager getting put down by an elder.

"What the hell was that for?!" Dax snipped when the pain became bearable. He'd need some painkillers later, that's for sure.

"For you to learn to respect your elders, smart mouth. Now, off you go, if anyone comes in here I'll have too much explaining to do as things are, with you two here it's certain death. I've also relayed a message to Forlecc in case you want to dump the shuttle and get a little extra" the aging human confirmed, ushering them towards a covert exit into an alley.

"A little extra?! A shuttle should land us _at least_ a quarter of what you just paid us!" Sabine exclaimed, not wishing to be cut out of any other potential payment.

"And who's gonna pay for it, Sabs? Selling Imperial shuttles without permits is capital offense, even Black Marketers think twice about it. We'll be lucky if we get 100,000 credits, at most." Dax answered coolly and matter-of-factly.

"Huh, I didn't think about that…"

"How typical…"

Sabine punching him hard in his arm shut him up for good, at least for a while.

* * *

"So…" Dax had finally broken the silence as soon as they returned to the ship. Sabine rolled her eyes at him and smirked, preparing for more snipping and smart talking. Which is why what followed would surprise her well after she broke Corellia's orbit later.

"Don't you ever get tired of witty banter?"

"Sometimes, but this is not it. I figure this is it for the job…"

"What? Are you hanging me out to dry, or something?"

"No, your trip is taken care of, just do what Vangrow told us and you'll be free again."

"But I thought… you know…"

"That I would stick around?" Dax asked with a smirk, clearly finding her shock to be amusing. That idea, however, had been far too naïve.

"Well…. I mean…"

"Bad idea, Wren, and you know it. Besides, at this rate we'll drive each other up the wall in no time. You don't owe me anything, and I… well… make sure to count your credits as soon as you break orbit"

Sabine was dumbfounded, and would grudgingly have to admit in the years to come that he had managed to thoroughly leave her out of words. Not being one for sentimentality and such, Dax simply gave her a crooked smile, a good-bye gesture, and turned his back on her, walking all the way back along the platform, he headed to an old but well-maintained freighter, disappearing up the cargo ramp, then reappearing behind the flight controls. Sabine had done so too, preparing the shuttle to take off, and was able to look at him for one last time. Dax stopped his own preparations and took one good look at her.

"You are not going soft on me, are you, Wren?" he teased, the laughter in his tone infecting Sabine.

"Don't flatter yourself, Mr. You did good, but just that"

"Oh, so saving your life is just good? Wow, that's depressing"

"Don't you have to go?" Sabine rolled her eyes, spooling up the engines and revving them to make sure everything worked fine.

"Fine. Have a good life, Wren, and stop testing your luck, would you?"

"Can't promise anything. See you around?" the hint of hopefulness in her tone betrayed the calmness she wanted to project, but if she had to be honest, a friend that understood the muck that the Galaxy had become was a valuable commodity, even if they didn't know each other as well as one could suggest.

"Not likely, but…you know, never say never, right?"

"Yeah…"

With a final wave, he lifted his freighter off the ground and made his way into the inky blackness of space, leaving Sabine to follow suit and head her own way, thinking about if she would ever meet someone as interesting and dull at the same time. They said every being in the galaxy was unique, though, so she was probably hoping in vain.

 _It's a shame, really…_

* * *

"Okay, where are we on supplies, R4?" Dax asked to the astromech he owned. The old droid beeped an inventory of everything in the ship. Not like it was much, anyways.

"Right, we better head towards a civilized world sometime soon, don't you think? We wouldn't want to run out of oil for your baths, would we, buddy?" the droid beeped in agreement and excitement, rolling on his own axis in glee and leaving to tend to his usual duties, "by the way… Did you do that thing I asked you to? I don't really trust Vangrow, you know?"

The droid beeped affirmatively, rolling around the corner and leaving his owner to his thoughts.

 _Boy, I would pay to_ see _her expression right now…_

* * *

"By the Manda…. Oh… oh… this is…" Sabine muttered to herself, nearly in tears of joy. Forget the previous Force-damned art supplies, this was _perfect!_ Inside her payment pack she had found directions inside the shuttle, leading her to a secluded cargo area, where she would use the keycard attached to the instructions. And once inside, her lower jaw threatened to dislodge and fall all the way to the floor.

There was a can of nearly every base color to ever exist, along with several tone variations of those same colors. Brushes, chalk sticks, two new paint guns, solvents of different kinds, masking materials…it was nearly everything in a professional art studio, and certainly a lot more than she ever had owned in her amateurish career. How he had managed to sneak this all in, it wasn't hard to imagine (probably while they had taken the stolen weapons to the old man). A note was to be found at the forefront, Sabine already suspecting what it said and who had written it.

 _ **There, happy now?**_

 _ **-Dax**_

"Yes, yes I am… " she would simply whisper to herself.

So the heartless mercenary did have a heart, after all…


	5. Quick Trip Home

Nar Shaddaa is anything but civilized. Setting foot on the planet meant you were either part of the galaxy's scum, or you had a death wish beyond any reason. Dax wasn't the first, and definitely had none of the second, so he constantly found himself wondering just how was it that he always ended up in that dump of a planet. The answer was always the same: staying in any civilized planet for more than 24 hours was a risk that he couldn't afford to take. Even if he was supposed to be dead, his DNA would be a dead giveaway the second it was scanned (a requirement these days for docking in Imperial-run spaceports), and if they didn't frag him right where he stood, then they would detain him again and execute him for real this time for 'escaping prison'. An unnecessary risk that he wasn't taking any time soon.

"Hey, R4, remind me to get new IDs. I can't go around being a nobody on the jobs at the Core Worlds."

 _*What good is that for? IDs won't fool the DNA scanners*_

"Yeah, but they _can_ fool the Stormtroopers, genius"

The robot beeped angrily and rolled ahead of him, taking care of the shopping list he had given it, while Dax headed off into the even-least savory zones of the market. Blasters, armor panels, explosives, and the other tools of his trade weren't exactly approved of by the Empire, and even in these places people were very careful about how they moved such merchandise, but he wasn't looking his next destination just for that. This kind of personal errand came few and far between, and over the last couple months it had become a bit more rare than usual.

"What do you want?"

"I search for the Briar Tooka's wisdom" What kind of idiot thought of such a stupid password? Dax would never know, it was a secret passed around in the bounty hunter community, never to be written or divulged to anyone who would never need it, and it had stood way before the current owner's time, kind of a family tradition.

That didn't make it any less stupid.

The disguised blast-door cracked open, barely leaving any room for him to squeeze inside. The familiar hallway lead to the room he was looking for. If he were a psychopathic nut-job like many of his peers, he would be feeling like a child in a candy store. All along the wall were samples of what he thought would be _every_ single blaster still in production: the infamous E11, the modular A280C and its variants, the short A180 pistol, the automatic DH-17… even for a well-adjusted, semi-moral being like him, a trip to this place was all about the eye candy. And in an obscure section of the room were the older models, things you still could find spares and parts for, but the blasters themselves out of production for a while.

"And just what the kriff are _you_ of all people doing here?" an older female voice drawled, accompanied by the soft thumping of boots on the duracrete floor.

"Are you saying I'm not welcome in here?" he casually asked, throwing a pout in for good measure.

The voice had an owner, a slender human woman forty-five years old that looked barely a day over thirty, redheaded, and who everybody knew was not a good idea to joke around to. With few exceptions.

"If that were the case you wouldn't have made it past the door, kiddo. Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with the fiasco back at Lianna…"

"Uhm…."

Karissa Valler nearly facepalmed, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"Kid, didn't Karloks teach you how not to pull stupid moves? Ever since he's been gone you've been pushing the boundaries of what you can get away with…"

"It wasn't my fault! A contract got out of hand and…" Dax tried to explain and defend himself, but he was very much aware that if there was one thing he wouldn't ever win, it was an argument against Karissa.

"Out of hand, you say?! With the Artist, no less? Shouldn't that be a clear indication for you?"

"I…" he sighed, conceding defeat, lowering his gaze and refusing to meet Valler's, "I made a mistake…"

Karissa simply sighed, yielding too.

"It's… fine, at least you are back and in one piece. Come on, I'll make you something, Force knows those rations you live off while you are away aren't the best diet to live off of."

"But… "

"No arguing, young man, I'm already pretty mad at you."

"Uh oh…"

* * *

Maybe Dax had refused to be fed too early. A small but juicy Bantha steak sat right in front of him, nearly a quarter of it already gone, with a siding of mashed Corellian potatoes and just a small spoon of Yogan sauce in case he felt a craving for it. Calling this modest meal the best one he'd had in the last months would be an understatement; survival rations tasted mostly awful, and their only redeeming values were the high amount of nutrients in them and the portability they afforded. When he thought about it, their unpleasant taste made sense: the rations had to last for a long trip, and a tasty cargo ran the risk of be done with early in the journey. A cargo that tasted like crap was due to make it all the way through.

Still, going from that to what he was eating at the moment was pretty much like going from driving a speeder to commandeering a Star Destroyer, and his eagerness showed.

"Hey, hey, hey! Eat like a sentient, young man!" Karissa chided, conking him lightly with her knuckles and giggling softly when Dax stopped stuffing his face with food, glared at her, and cautiously resumed eating in a more conservative manner. Valler simply laughed further and left him alone again.

* * *

It was a simple arrangement that had been born out of their own loses.

Early into his partnership with Jer, he had been introduced to Karissa when they first visited the shop. The woman wasn't very fond of his former teacher, but had inexplicably taken a liking to the teenager almost instantly, reinforced when they had sat down to talk about what had happened back in Mandalore. His suspicions from the get go were confirmed after a couple of months of intermittent visits. Karloks had planted the seed of doubt in his protegee, and Dax had collected all his bravery to inquire.

"I guess you young ones are always curious, aren't you?" she had started, mood going somber as she served him a bowl of spicy nerf soup. Thinking back on it, there were certainly better ways to approach the issue, but he always reserved caution and tact for assignments.

"If you don't want to talk about it…"

"It's a… delicate matter. I didn't always live in Nar Shaddaa, kid, I used to have a home and family. Ever been to Naboo?" Dax simply shook his head negatively, in order to not interrupt her, "You should, it's a beautiful place. Not many jobs out there, but if you line up a contract make sure you visit the lakes. I used to live there, and what a life it was! We were pretty well off, with little to worry about, and that was a blessing when we had our child. I can't tell you how much I loved my son… you… you remind me of him…"

He hadn't seen Karissa on the verge of crying since meeting her, but the personal nature of what she was telling him would reduce anyone with a heart to tears regardless of species. The thick silence that followed was not only awkward, but deafening, even, and Dax couldn't think of a way to break it without being rude.

"W-what happened to him?"

Karissa took a long calming breath before saying anything else.

"We enjoyed swimming in the lake often, and over time I got too confident. At times, I would completely forget I wasn't alone out there. I got too careless, and… I fell asleep just for a moment…"

"Oh…"

"I… I tried to get him out… by the time I was able t-to he was a-already cold…"

"It… it wasn't your fault…" it was a stupid comment, to be expected in the heat of the emotionality, and a futile attempt to sooth her. Karissa only gave a bitter laugh and tried to regain some sort of composure.

"Thank you for trying, kid, but… it was, I've come to grips with that. That's why I left for this stink hole and got myself a divorce. I couldn't stand people telling me that it was 'just a mistake', 'anyone could have just as bad luck'. I hated people being condescending and mistaking it for sympathy… I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't unload this on you. Excuse me." Without another word, Valler stood from her chair and left the small kitchen and the young man behind. Even with how good the food smelled, his appetite was gone.

 _Who could eat after such a talk?_

After a forced meal, Dax went to look for Karissa. He walked around the whole shop for half an hour with no luck, until he ventured into the areas of the structure he hadn't been into -out of respect more than prohibition-. He found her sitting all on her own on a single bed, a plush Tooka in her hands, and a look of longing and remembrance in her features. Come to think of it, this was the closest he could picture a child's room would look like in a planet like this.

"Karissa?" he asked timidly, looking younger than he already was.

"Hey. Sorry, I just needed to be alone…"

"I get it. Is… was that…. Uhm…"

"Donnie. We named him Donnie. Yes, this was all his. I couldn't bear to get rid of it. It's all I've got left of him."

As he sat, Dax took a look around and absorbed more details. Plush creatures, didactic toys, jigsaws… everything he hadn't exactly had while growing up. Sure, Mandalorian culture had relaxed quite a lot in the cities, having been exposed to Coruscanti culture since the end of the Clone Wars, and Zathe had tried to be loving, all things considered, but ancient ways had outweighed some things, and when it came to toddler uprising it was one mixed bag. Toys were a rare sight growing up for him.

"I… I'm really sorry, making you go through all that. I knew I shouldn't have listened to Jer…" he tried to apologize for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

"It had to be said, kid. I'm sorry that I'm not being honest with you. I'm trying to make you into someone you are not. You are not my son, and I shouldn't be pretending to be a mother, that time passed me by, and you quite clearly have no need for anything closely resembling a mother. It's stupid." Valler sniffled and set the Tooka in the bed by her side.

The final line left him in a deep state of thought. Yes, he didn't need anything close to a mother in his life, there was no way to sustain an interpersonal relation like that with his current lifestyle, but he was curious…

"What… does a normal mother do?" the question was out before he could think twice about it.

"Come on, kiddo, you had your own mother. She's had to be loving to a certain point…"

"You assume too much."

"I don't want your pity, don't do this because you want to humor me." There was the Karissa he had met.

"I'm not. I… never had a normal mother. She never cared when the other kids beat me up or insulted me. Does a mother consider it normal for her child to return home with torn clothing and a split lip?!"

 _Of course not, you'd have to be heartless sentient to disregard your son arriving like that to your home…_

And now she understood why he was like he was. Why he turned into a bully for his job, why he was always angry. Why he was always defensive. There was nothing surprising about what he had become, now that she got a glimpse of where he came from.

"Come here kid" she scooted over, leaving enough space for him to sit with her. Of course, he was doubtful at first, but cautiously complied. The older woman then pulled him in, holding him close to her, "it's alright. You know it's ok if you let everything out, right?"

"I don't want to…. Makes me feel weak…"

"But it _doesn't_ make you weak. It makes you a sentient, it's ok to feel, it's ok to grieve, it's ok to be mad. As long as you don't let those emotions guide your hand, it's ok to feel them. How do you feel right now?"

It was a while until he answered. There was nothing that came to mind for him to answer that question, his work and personal life being one and the same.

"I don't know. Nothing, right now, I guess…"

Of course he was stubborn. A childhood of being heavily bullied and a few months of living among thugs, thieves, and murderers usually had that effect on people. He wasn't a little kid anymore, but he was young still at sixteen, a motherly figure could have still help him on a better path had they cared for him earlier in his life. Now he was all he could be, under the circumstances.

The older woman's motherly instincts kicked in, humming traditional Nubian lullabies softly while holding him. Without meaning to, Dax found himself dozing off until he was completely out of it, lulled by the softness of Karissa's humming and the warmness of the embrace. Valler would eventually leave him on his own, tucked in as best as she was able to and, just for that one time, looking like the young teen he was supposed to be. Not the mercenary, not the thief, and not the hired gun Karloks said he was. Just a kid who, if his history was any indication, just wouldn't ever catch too much of a break ever in life. Karissa didn't really believe in curses or any crap of the sort, but the only way to see his situation is that he was one of many people born with inherent bad luck. It sounded like freshly-produced poodoo, but it was what it was.

With a last affectionate pat, she left for her own room, wishing for the hundredth time that her own son was here. Dax being only a couple of months older than her late son, both of them would have gotten along, probably. But her son wasn't here, and while Dax didn't need a mother anymore, she was beginning to like the idea that she could be a small voice of reason and, dare she say it, even motherly affection. Just how much of that he would accept, that was his choice. How much would she give? As much as she considered appropriate.

* * *

Nearly a year later and Karissa was pretty much 'Mom' in everything but name. Dax tried to associate the term, but it sounded too bitter for him. 'Mom' had abandoned him when he needed her the most. 'Mom' had directed her severity at him for defending himself against bullies. 'Mom' had tried, and she had failed. Karissa did understand, of course. On a basic level, she was moved, even, when Dax told her so (with different words, of course), and couldn't avoid hugging the kid when it happened. He could be adorable, it was just something he didn't like to be called. Instead, she became 'Kari' -his own idea-, and while his visits were few and far between jobs -usually numbering one or two a month on average-, he was always welcomed with wide arms and a smile. If there was a single person in the whole galaxy that knew him beyond question, it was her, and the alien feeling of being exposed to another person's affection made him realize a lot of things. It started slowly, when he first began to understand that he was not who he pretended to be on the job. He was not angry at everyone, he was not indifferent to killing, and being a hired gun wasn't everything he wanted to be for the rest of his life. So now he knew what he didn't want to be, but what about what he _did_ want to be? That question was still left unanswered after all these months, but meeting certain Mandalorian teen made the thought nag at him back again, and that's how he found himself on Karissa's indoor garden with his chin resting atop his hands, looking at the water of the fountain fall while lost in thought. At first Valler would think nothing of it, but after returning an hour later to find him still in pretty much the same position, it was clear something was bothering him.

"Hey, kiddo, are you alright? You look like you are thinking pretty hard right there" the older woman asked, sitting by his side and rubbing his back soothingly, listening to him sigh and then shift his gaze towards her.

"Sorry, I was just… well, the last job was a bit out of the ordinary…"

"Uh-huh… in what way exactly?"

"…"

"Oh. My… Kiddo, don't tell me you…"

"No!"

Karissa couldn't avoid giggling at the teenager's discomfort, watching him bury his flushed face in his hands.

"Aww, I never thought I would live to see you in love, kid…"

"I'm not! I mean…"

"You like her, The Artist!"

"No!"

"Don't lie to me, kiddo"

"I don't! Swear on the Force!"

"Then the Force will crush you, for being a liar. Spit it out, already."

"Fine! I found her… interesting. But not on that level! It's more like a… friendship, or something like that" Dax blurted out, avoiding Valler's gaze to keep her from seeing right through him. Not like she needed to.

"Right, lie to me if you want." She replied, rolling her eyes, "Seriously, though. Be careful. We women are a crazy lot, and from what I know of her, it goes double. One day she may be all nice and cozy, the next one she could leave you hanging upside down from your toes to save her bacon. Don't go looking for trouble when it already finds you so easily."

"Yeah, forgot about that…"

"How typical…" Karissa off-handedly remarked, pinching one of his cheeks and making him squirm free of her grasp, "Think about it long and hard, tying yourself up with someone changes your life dramatically. Priorities change, and the last thing you want is to be tied to someone that has a set of priorities vastly different to yours. I know I haven't exactly told you this before, but there's a lot of potential in you, there's more to you than being a hired gun. Be with someone that understands and respects that, and give her the same benefit, and I guarantee you'll be on a lasting relationship"

"With my luck, I'll probably die before getting to that…" Dax lamented, not joking at all.

"Hey, never say never, kiddo. Keep your chin up, good things happen when you stay positive and tackle your problems with a chipper attitude." Karissa finished, softly stroking the top of his head and standing to leave, adding a final thought on her way out, "You should invite her over, I'm sure there's something here that'll catch her attention."

 _Me and my big mouth…_

* * *

Five days. That's how long it took for a dirty R4 to arrive to the shop. Dax was a little ashamed to admit he had forgotten a bit about the droid. It had the same knack as him for getting into trouble, so keeping it in control was more than difficult and usually didn't merit him going out there looking for him.

"What happened? Where have you been now?" Dax inquired to the astromech, already trying to get him cleaned up with a rag.

 _*No time for that! He's coming! I believe he followed me or had me tracked in some way!*_

"Wait… _him_ , him?" the teenager felt his heart rate increase at the mere idea.

 _*Yes!_ Him, _him! He could be here at any moment!*_

"What is going on in here?" Dax was hoping that Karissa wouldn't find out, but now it seemed like that wish wouldn't come true.

 _*Narwa Kidaze is coming here! He followed or tracked me…*_

"Hold it right there, I thought you had already paid Kidaze. Why would he still be looking for you?" the redheaded woman asked, already fearing the answer coming out of the teenager's lips.

"I… I forgot…"

"You _forgot?!_ How do you forget paying a monetary debt to a piece of fierfek like Kidaze?!"

Dax winced at the tone, the one that told him he was in even _more_ serious trouble with her than with Kidaze.

"Mistress Valler, there's people at the door!" one of Karissa's employees shouted to her, as the banging on the metallic blast door became louder.

"Get away from it and get everyone in the back. Wait until we clear them" Valler ordered, lifting a DC-15S blaster carbine from the counter and herding everyone away, while Dax motioned R4 to follow and took position near the door. As soon as it blasted open, six figures made their way inside, wildly firing everywhere. In stark contrast, Karissa double-tapped two of them near instantly, the goons dropping dead before the others even completed their entrance. Following suit, Dax drove his elbow into the neck of the last goon in line, snapping it from the crushing force, before swiveling around and connecting a powerful blow to the face of the next target. While only stunning it, the following strike to the windpipe made the shooter drop his blaster, and gave Dax enough time to draw a double-edged knife, driving it straight to the heart of his opponent. Karissa had switched firing positions in the commotion, downing another target but holding fire when the last one jumped at Dax, trying to get him on a chokehold. The Mandalorian grabbed the offending thumb, swiveling around again to place the enemy on a thumb-lock, right before slashing at its neck and eliminating it for good.

Before having time to process what just happened, a hulking Weequay connected a blow with the teenager's chest, sending him backwards into the ground, leaving him vulnerable to be restrained by the neck.

"You think this is funny, kid? First you steal money from me, now you kill my employees? I should have ripped your head off when I first had the chance!" and he tried, right then and there, until a pistol grip slammed into the side of his face, eliciting an incredible yell from the grown man. Dax simply rolled to his side, away from Kidaze, coughing and trying to regain his breath. The Weequay was about to turn and re-engage, but the barrel of Karissa's carbine met him as soon as he turned, and the woman's reputation as protective and aggressive reared its head.

"You better stand down before I fry your nugget, Kidaze. Step. Back."

"Give me the kid and I will leave you alone!"

"Not happening, and you know it. Step. Back. I will not tell you again."

The monster just _had_ to know she was being serious. There was no way she would give Dax up willingly.

"So, what now? "Kidaze asked, stepping back twice and calming down.

"How much does he owe you?"

"Three thousand credits. Plus interest."

"Total, Kidaze, total"

"Five thousand, three hundred credits. And he hasn't paid in a month!"

"I'll pay his debt, and I don't want you anywhere near him again" the older woman ordered, lowering her weapon and using her communicator to order the money into the room.

Dax couldn't do much but watch as Karissa handed a laden duffel to the muscle-bound alien, causing him to smile and leave without any further complications. The teen would have spat on his direction, or proffered an insult towards the hulk-ish creature, but the feel of three broken ribs was petrifying, making it painful to breath in, much less move, so he remained put and waited for someone to give him a hand.

"Come on, let's get you somewhere where you can rest" Valler soothed, a hint of bitterness hidden in her tone. He whimpered loudly and even screamed as he felt his broken ribs shift, causing even more pain. Walking was nearly torture, instead another helper carried him. The softness of the mattress eased the pain once he was laid down, and his whimpering died down.

"Bring medical supplies, I'll tend to him. You and the others clean the shop."

"Yes, mistress."

The helper leaves them alone, to return a few minutes later, carrying everything he deemed necessary for his mistress to take care of the young man. Knowing how difficult it would be to try to nurse Dax while conscious, Karissa wasted no time knocking him out with a strong sedative, fighting the feeble attempts of the teen to struggle, and watching go steadily limp despite the pain.

"When are you going to stop pushing your luck, kid?" she mused to herself.

* * *

By the fourth day he had healed physically, and was already making preparations to go off world. He hadn't seen much of Karissa, but he figured that after the bantha crap he just pulled, he was better off not showing his face around much. Karissa wasn't his mother to be forced to tolerate his erratic behaviors, and being a sixteen-year-old, he was old enough to solve his own issues.

He would miss the warmness of motherly affection, no doubt, but that was a selfish reason to stick around.

"Do you think she'll miss us?" he awkwardly asked to R4, who was just finishing inventory.

 _*Not me, I would guess. You? It will break her heart. Why are you sentients so inconsiderate to one another?*_

"I'm not being inconsiderate! I'm being the opposite of inconsiderate! You saw the kind of problems I brought on her! She treats me like a son, and I bring a murderous Weequay to her house."

 _*Oh, please! Karissa has seen worse in her years of operating the shop! You just want to run like a scared little kid because you are afraid she could actually set you straight and make your pathetic life better!*_

Since when had the droid gained such an attitude? Maybe on one of his constant stand-alone adventures.

"I don't want to hear this from an insolent rust-bucket. Finish the inventory and prepare the ship for take-off" he finally ordered, getting a binary response akin to 'Yes, commander ass-hat', "and I heard that!"

The beeping gradually faded as the offender rolled down the hallway, Dax retreating into the cockpit with a sigh. Of course, R4 was right, but he wouldn't admit that. His reasoning sounded better to him. Sitting with a heavy sigh on the cockpit seat, the teenager was ready to receive the ok from the droid, until he was violently jerked around to face a _very_ angry Karissa. She could boil water if she had been holding a mug.

"Just what the hell are you doing?" she fiercely asked, daring him to say just _one_ wrong word. The only reason he wouldn't get a spanking, it seemed, is the fact that he was already grown up.

"Well… I got a contract… so…"

"You do know how much I hate it when you lie to me, don't you?"

"I'm… I'm not…"

"Fine, I'll go get an answer out of R4…"

"No, wait!" if he let her do that, the retribution would be even worse.

"Spill it, kid."

"Fine! I… I don't want another run at what happened. I… I don't want you to hate me for being a screw up. I already lost two parents…"

All the anger Karissa was feeling evaporated nearly an instant. Watching him shrink in the seat, a mix of shame and sadness in his face. If she didn't know better, she could swear he was about to break in tears. He wasn't her kid, but goddamn if he couldn't tug at her heartstrings!

"Kid, look at me." She asked, her voice regaining her usual softness. The kind of softness reserved only for a select few, "Hey, I'm over here, so be kind enough to look at me."

Reluctantly, he did, even if his eyes were a bit watery.

"You've made many mistakes since we first met. I haven't left you hanging for any of it, and I'm not starting now. You are not a screw up, we all make mistakes. I meant what I told you before, I just want you stop doing stupid mistakes! Kid, it hurts to see you make these mistakes. I'm just trying to get you on the right track. And yes, I was mad at what happened a few days ago, but I don't _want_ you to go away. Do you have any idea of what that will do to me?"

As if to prove a point, she pulled him up and wrapped him in a tight hug. His ribs still felt somewhat tender, but he was lost on the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing. If it wasn't for the reluctance he felt towards crying, he might as well be doing so right now.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, barely understandable, feeling rather than hearing her chuckle.

"Damn right you are, you thick-headed kid. Do you really have a contract, though?"

"Uhm, yeah, I did commit to a job. I guess it can wait though…"

Karissa shot him a disapproving look, "No, no, a man's word is the most valuable thing he has. It's ok, go, good luck, and stay out of trouble, would you? Or at the very least kriffing try."

"Can't promise anything…"

* * *

Dax was free-falling into nothingness. The darkness enveloping him was absolute, but the thug of gravity felt all too real, and was the only cue of what was happening. In a flash of a moment he wasn't falling anymore, finding himself standing on a desert plane. He wasn't unfamiliar with desert environments, like the ones outside the domes in Mandalore, but this uncharacteristically red desert was not something he'd seen before.

"It's been a while since I've seen one of your kind, young one. Not many of the Warrior Kind are called upon by the Ashla and the Bogan, and even few answer the calling" the voice came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, echoing naturally and imposing above all.

"What are you talking about? Who are you?!" he called out, expecting no particular answer.

"You need guidance, though, young Warrior. Knowledge will come handy for the path you are walking."

"I'm positive I don't know what you are talking about! Show yourself! Start making sense, Force dammit!"

"All in good time, young one. All in good time. I'll be seeing you soon…"

* * *

R4 rolled into the cockpit, not at all surprised at finding Dax in the pilot's seat, with bloodshot red eyes and a rumpled set of clothes.

*Another nightmare?* the astromech inquired, extending a cup of Caff with his manipulators.

"Something like that. Are we there yet?" Dax asked, accepting the steaming cup and taking a light sip right off the bat.

*2 hours until we exit hyperspace in orbit of Glicena trade station.* R4 could do that by himself, of course, he didn't need Dax to operate the ship once the destination was decided, but over the time he had served under the human he had come to realize that the extended periods of insomnia he suffered translated into a less-than-desirable mood, and letting the human operate the ship and keeping him on the loop kept him relatively at ease and minimized the outbursts, so the droid made concessions where he could and generally stayed out of the way on particularly bad days.

"Good, start docking procedures as soon as we exist hyperspace, and send a message out to our employer. Let him know our ETA is 'imminent', and he better not keep me waiting."

*Roger*

* * *

"Mommy! I want a bantha burger!" a little Togruta boy begged to his mother two tables away, his words barely discernible above the din of the cafeteria. Sitting at the back of the establishment on his own, Dax nursed his Caff mug with the enthusiasm one usually reserves for an appointment at the dentist's office.

"Seems like you've been stood up, darlin'. You sure that you don't want anything?" an (admittedly attractive) girl commented on a rush, trying to make casual conversation while keeping her attention in her job.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Is a nerf steak sandwich with Gartro egg too much of an imposition?" he off-handedly asked, willing himself to remain patient. Twenty minutes of waiting was pushing it, in his opinion.

"Coming right out, darlin'" the waiter sped away to relay his order, leaving him again with his impatient and borderline-murderous thoughts. _At least last time it was worth the wait… Crap, Karissa would tease me to death if she could read my thoughts…_ With one last facepalm, he thanked the Force and the Manda equally when his meeting finally started.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, it seems like the port is busier than usual" a fair skinned human male sat across from him in the stall, ordering a single mug of caff to justify his presence there.

"The polite thing would be to at least let me know you'll be late"

"20 minutes won't kill you, kid. Anyways, it's hard to find people like you. Almost every bounty hunter these days is registered with the Empire, so maybe be grateful, I know a lot of people who are very interested in a freelance agent."

Dax narrowed his eyes briefly, easing off with a sigh.

"And what is it that you need someone like me for?" he was able to ask before his order arrived, momentarily interrupting their meeting.

"Nothing big for starters. More like a personal errand, but worry not, I'll pay handsomely for it. A kriffing dirt bag owes me money, but instead of paying up, I hear he bought himself a new ship instead, so I want you to… repo, this article for me. I'm guessing this won't be a problem?"

"So you want me to be your errand boy… of course it's not a problem, but you can literally hire a kid from the street to do that kind of thing. Cheaper, too" the Mandalorian flatly enounced, to which his prospective employer responded with a hearty laugh.

"Kid, if I wanted some punk ass from the street to ship jack a vessel I'd have an infinite supply of candidates. As It stands, this is merely a formality, think of it as a job interview, if you will. You have three days, I expect my new ship in dock 194, with as little damage as possible. Only then will we discuss your payment and future assignments. Good luck, and don't worry, the lunch is on me."

Setting two golden credit chips on the table, the still-stranger left as quickly as he arrived, much to Dax's chagrin. _Karissa is going to kill me this time. I can feel the withering glare she-s going to give me already…_

"Kriffing jackass" he muttered under his breath, reaching inside his jacket for his Comm earpiece, "R4, get me some schematics on the station, tap into the mainframe if necessary. Check my gear, get my thermal under-suit ready, and keep the ship's registry masked in the database."

*Oh, boy, this is going to be interesting…*

"I know, believe me. I'll be there when I'm done here." Dax sighed just by thinking about what would happen next. He had the distinct feeling that he had walked into something he would regret later, even if he still didn't know exactly what It was (and, he guessed, would never have an opportunity to say 'no' to). With his luck, though, anything could be expected from this, including the job blowing up in his face (quite literally), so he settled, at the moment, with eating his sandwich.

There would be time to kick himself over his decision later.

* * *

 **So...**

 **Been away for a while, college has been ruthless in these final stages, and thus, I'm forced to apologize for this extended break. Don't know how long it will take for another chapter to be put out, but here's hoping that this longer chapter will keep you satisfied for a while, and if you like it or have constructive criticism, I would appreciate a Review.**

 **See you when I see you.**


End file.
